


Never Give Up

by savingophelia (briennesbeauty)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate universe - normal setting, Difficult Relationships, Emma and her parents have an actual relationship, F/F, Nobody's dying okay chill, Regal Believer, Slow Burn, Swan Mills Family, inspired by a controversial story with the controversy cut out, may be mildly medically inaccurate because i am a researcher not a doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 159,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briennesbeauty/pseuds/savingophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a messy divorce and long-distance move, Regina Mills is trying to make a fresh start for herself and her son in the little town of Storybrooke, Maine, where her friend manages to get her a job caretaking for the recently paralysed daughter of the town’s mayor, Emma Swan. </p><p>Slow burn Swan Queen AU loosely based on Jojo Moyes’ book Me Before You. (No  mention of euthanasia/suicide. Full details inside.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a slow burn fic, so be warned, and as much as I've researched I can almost guarantee there will be some medical inaccuracy at some point. 
> 
> While it is loosely based around the premise of Me Before You by Jojo Moyes, it will not follow the exact story at all, as I do not agree with certain ethical choices the author made/messages she put out there, so for those of you that have read the book or seen the film, I promise you right now the ending will definitely not be the same as this fic does not include or even reference euthanasia/assisted suicide in any way since I personally don't think it's my place to even broach that subject.
> 
> Also posting on FFN as savingophelia.

"Regina Locksley?"

"Speaking. Although it's Mills now, if you don't mind. Who is this?"

"Of course. Ms Mills, my name is Mary Margaret Nolan. I was wondering if you'd be free to come down to my office at the Town Hall for an interview tomorrow? Three o'clock. In regards to the caretaking position."

"That –" Regina looked at her watch and frowned. She should be picking Henry up from school at three. Granted, their house was about a five minute walk from the building, and he wouldn't have to cross any roads. He'd walked by himself all the time back in Portland, but... She sighed, resigned. "That will be fine."

"Great!" The woman on the other end of the phone chirped. Her voice was unsettlingly upbeat. "Thank you. I'll see you then."

"Right." Regina nodded distractedly as the line went dead.

She huffed, clicking her phone off and burying it back in her back. Right at the bottom. She was not running the risk of getting a call from anyone else today. She was not in the mood. Right now, all she wanted was to go home, cook dinner and sink into a nice hot bath.

Home.

The thought was beyond strange, this being her _home_. She'd grown up on the outskirts of Boston, in a pretentious upper-middle-class neighbourhood mostly filled with old white men, which had been hardly ideal, particularly on top of living with her mother, but she'd moved into the city to go to university as soon as she could. That was where she'd met Robin and the rest was history. They'd moved to Portland for his job, and lived there for... Well, until now.

She really needed to stop thinking about Robin.

Regina breathed in sharply, shifting her bag on her arm and focusing on the neat grey streets all around her. Barely a car had gone by in the last five minutes. To say that Storybrooke was small would be around the same level as saying the sun was hot. Storybrooke was _tiny_ , the kind of town where everyone knew everyone's grandparents and baby stories and said hello in the street. It was almost twee, which would have made her vomit and stay far, far away a few years ago, but right now, for her and raising Henry and their fresh start... It was perfect.

She couldn't help looking around as she made her way back to the house, hands in her coat pockets, heels clicking on the pavement. There was the vintage-looking diner they'd driven past on the way, the squat sheriff's station, a friendly-looking comic book shop on the corner she made a note to tell Henry about. They could be happy here, she thought. They _would_ be happy here. They had to be.

It only took a few minutes to get back to the house from the grocery store, and a few more minutes of irritably fumbling and struggling with her key and her handbag and the grocery bags before she actually managed to get into the house, but the instant she did, there was a high pitched yell and a pair of warm arms wrapped like a skinny vice around her middle. "Mommy!"

"Henry," Regina felt a smile curve across her lips, chest flooding with warmth at the sudden affection. Her son certainly hadn't been like _this_ before the divorce. Maybe she had done something right. She breathed in and rolled her shoulders back, fixing on a bigger, more convincing smile for him.

"Mom, did you get the ice cream? Did you get it with the cookie pieces I like?" Henry detached himself from her, hundred-watt grin fixed on his face. "Can I have some for desert?"

"Only if you're a good boy and eat all your vegetables first." Regina allowed, looking down to his level. His hazel eyes were wide and bright, fixed on hers with the most adult seriousness in his expression. It made her heart tighten in her chest. This had to work. This _had_ to work, for him. She conjured up another smile. "Were you a good boy for Aunt Kathryn today?"

"Of course I was!" Henry remarked, screwing up his face into a duh expression.

Regina raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with her friend, who was currently standing by the door. "Was he?"

Kathryn pretended to consider for a few seconds. "He was okay." She flashed a grin at the boy's outraged expression. "I think he deserves some ice cream."

"Very well." Regina turned her attention back to her son, bending down to look him in the eye. "Now. I'm going to go unpack the shopping. Why don't you put the TV on ready, and I'll be in with you in a minute. Okay?"

"Okay," Henry shrugged his narrow shoulders, charging off back to the living room. Just like that. Regina watched him dart around the door.

She motioned for Kathryn to follow her through to the kitchen, weaving a path between the half-unpacked boxes and lifting the grocery bags onto the counter. Regina sighed, tucking a dark wave of hair behind her ear as she slowly, methodically started filling the empty cupboards. "That woman Mary Margaret called today."

"Seriously?" Kathryn stared at her, brow furrowing. "What'd she say?"

"I have an interview tomorrow. Three o'clock." Regina told her, ducking to arrange the cleaning products in the cupboard under the sink.

"Wow. I mean, when I put you forward for the job I was hopeful, but I didn't think it'd be so soon." Kathryn shrugged, opening another grocery bag. "The Nolan family is kind of... I don't know. I'm sure it'll be fine. Where'd you want the pasta?"

"Top shelf." Regina nodded at the cupboard, depositing the bread in the bread box. Shooting a sideways glance at the blonde woman, Regina sighed and leaned against the kitchen side, suddenly excruciatingly self conscious. She cleared her throat. "Thank you, again, for doing all of this. You've got so much going on yourself, the last thing I want is to weigh you down with all my..." Fingers clenching distractedly against the kitchen counter, Regina glanced around at all the full bags and boxes. "Baggage."

"Regina. Regina, look at me." Kathryn's voice was sharp and precise. Regina sighed, clenching her jaw and turning to meet her friends wide gaze. "You do not have baggage. You are not being a pain. And I really don't mind helping out. You'd do the same for me." She paused, stare firmly fixed on the brunette's uncertain face. "Anyway, your kid is ridiculously polite. And smart. How'd you do that?"

"He takes after me," Regina deadpanned. She breathed in. "I suppose you wouldn't mind calling him tomorrow to make sure he gets home from school? My interview's at three."

"That is exactly the sort of thing I'm here for." Kathryn informed her earnestly. Regina watched her friend cautiously, gaze catching on her fidgeting hands. "If you don't mind me asking... Are you doing okay?" Her earnest blue stare sought Regina's.

Regina's heart sank a little. She breathed in sharply, staring at the bare fridge standing across the kitchen from her. _Am I?_ Honestly... She wasn't sure. Leaning back against the counter, she felt her brows knit, searching for some way to explain it. The truth was, she and Robin had fallen out of love a long time before they signed the papers. The only second thought, the only tiny, niggling doubt lodged in the back of her mind was Henry.

She opened her mouth, trying to find the right words. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know." Regina paused, purposefully not looking at her. Prickling heat crawled up her neck. "I'm not sad about _Robin_ , I don't miss him." She shrugged self-consciously and shook her head. "I just wonder sometimes, about Henry. Isn't it better for a child to be raised in a proper family unit? I mean –"

"That's about them." Kathryn interjected softly. "I asked about you."

Regina folded her arm across her chest, shifting uncomfortably against the counter. "I'm fine." Her voice sounded thick and strained in her ears, throat tight. "I have the house all sorted out, I'll get a new job... Honestly, I just want to put the whole thing behind me and move forward."

"The whole what?" Kathryn asked gently. "Marriage? Portland? Manager-dom?"

She thought back over the last ten years of her life. Snapping and strained in her office, surrounded by useless employees creeping around her like she was some kind of dictator, made of glass. Small talking with Robin's friends without even thinking whether she actually got along with them or just wanted to. Scrutinising Henry's oddly quiet behaviour and being called in for meeting after meeting with his teachers. Slowly becoming more and more stunted and polite with the man who was supposed to be her husband. Black coffee in the day and sleeping pills at night.

"Everything." Regina realised as the word left her lips. And she did: she wanted a complete fresh start. Storybrooke was a blank slate, and she intended to take full advantage of that.

"Okay." Her friend didn't look convinced. "Just don't turn into one of those weird single-mom recluses."

"I'll try." Regina replied dryly. She swallowed. "Speaking of, I have a son that requires me to watch _Aladdin_ with him for the fiftieth time."

"I'll leave you in peace." Kathryn nodded.

Regina walked her to the door with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Kathryn was one of her old friends from college. They'd shared a few business classes, been close at the time, but they'd barely spoken since they both graduated and Regina moved to Portland with her boyfriend and Kathryn moved back to her tiny Maine hometown, which she evidently hadn't left just yet.

It had been an impulse call, when Regina picked up the phone after she'd signed the divorce papers and found herself dialling the blonde's number. She'd just needed to move out, to move away, far, far away from the rainy city that had somehow trapped her into the wrong life so slowly she'd barely noticed. Going back to Boston was option, but the thought of raising her son there by herself made her shudder. And she'd be obligated to see her mother every weekend if she lived that close. Somehow, the memory of Kathryn sitting in her dorm talking about growing up in Storybrooke had floated back to her. And here she was.

A fresh start. A blank slate. A new beginning.

-0-

The day of her interview, Regina woke up early as usual, had a brief moment of disorientation at waking up alone in an unfamiliar bedroom filled with boxes, got over it, made Henry breakfast, walked him to school, made sure he knew the way back for this afternoon, came home and lost a few hours fastidiously unpacking boxes of clothes and books and arranging ornaments.

After lunch she headed for the shower with a new sense of grim determination setting in. Gone were the doubt and discomfort she'd felt last night – today she had a job to land. Besides, this was her forte. Work, professionalism, interviews: those were things she knew how to handle, even if she was used to being on the other side of the desk.

Back in Portland, she'd been the floor manager of a banking company, and not a small one either. Of course, she'd worked a lot less after Henry was born, sharing her position with another man to compensate for Robin's busy hours. He was a park ranger. Park manager, he insisted. Honestly. Why she stayed with that man so long was beyond her.

Feeling increasingly confident, Regina went through the rigorous motions of showering, getting dressed, touching up her hair and makeup. There was something comforting in the routine of it that made her feel better. While she made herself presentable, she ran though everything that she knew about the position in her head.

If she got it, it would certainly be... New.

She'd never done care work before, and she couldn't say she'd be comfortable or even good at it, but Kathryn had insisted when she arrived a few days ago, an unemployed newly-single mother with too much experience, that the mayor's family were so desperate they were likely to hire anyone. From what she'd heard, the story was common knowledge. It wasn't often such drama happened in Storybrooke, so absolutely everyone knew it to precise detail.

The mayor's daughter, who worked at the sheriff's station with her father, had been involved in a car crash while running a case. The criminal and the other officer came out shaken but unscathed – the daughter, however, had suffered severe spinal injuries and ended up paralysed from the neck down. Apparently, the woman had become... Difficult, since the accident. That was the word Kathryn used, anyway. For her own peace of mind, she was trying not to dwell on that part too much.

When the time came, Regina buttoned on her best trench coat, hooked her bag over her arm, and made the short journey to the town hall. Inside, the building was clean and high-ceilinged, although the hideous bird paintings decorating the walls left something to be desired. She ignored them, breathing in and dusting her coat off as she crossed the entrance hall to the woman seated at the desk in the corner.

"Good afternoon," The woman beamed.

Regina fought the urge to scowl. Nobody who worked as a receptionist should be so chipper. The Portland receptionists were all appropriately jaded and monotonous. She shook her annoyance off, absently smoothing down her hair. "Yes, my name is Regina Mills. I believe I have an appointment with the mayor?"

"Of course." The woman pulled a folder closer in front of her, scanning clinically before standing sharply and moving out from behind the desk. "Right this way, Ms Mills."

Ms Mills. She'd asked the mayor to call her that yesterday. It should have taken her back to when she was younger, but instead she found it just made her feel... renewed. Strong. Locksley had never sounded right tacked on the end of her name after all. Regina followed the receptionist to the office door, and waited while she knocked, running through her vast list of credentials in her head.

"Ms Mills is here to see you," The receptionist called through the door.

Regina heard a noise like a chair scraping in the office. "Of course!" The voice from the other end of the phone piped from inside. "Send her in, please,"

The receptionist turned the doorknob and held it open for her. Regina steeled herself, drew in a breath and slipped inside, hearing the door close firmly behind her. Inside, the mayor – Mary Margaret, presumably – sat behind a desk, shuffling a stack of files. Regina's gaze flickered over her quickly; buttoned-up white cardigan, naturally smiling face, cute dark pixie-cut just starting to turn grey. She kept her features schooled into a polite smile as she went and sat down in the chair across from her.

"Good afternoon, hi!" Mary Margaret chirped, manically upbeat, even if the smile fixed on her face seemed a little strained to Regina. "So, first of all, welcome to our town! You just moved here, right?"

"Yes." Regina confirmed, folding her hands in her lap. "My son and I arrived a few days ago."

"Wonderful!" The mayor smiled. "Please, take your coat off, get comfortable. And if you don't mind me asking, how are you finding Storybrooke so far?"

"It's... Certainly a change from Portland." Regina managed, folding her coat over the back of her chair. She wished they could just stop all the small talk nonsense and get to the point, but... _If this is what it takes_. "I think we're going to be happy here."

"Well, I may be biased but as mayor I'm obligated to agree with you," Mary Margaret flashed a smile, which faded as fast as it had appeared. Her voice was smaller when she added, "It's a lovely place to raise a child."

"It does seem that way." Regina agreed. She was silently grateful the woman hadn't asked after Henry's father. Mary Margaret didn't seem the type to pry, thank God. She seemed nice enough, in that sickeningly over-friendly way Regina could never stomach.

"Good, good," The mayor sat up in her chair. She was still smiling, but there was something else shifting in her eyes now. It might have been awful but it made Regina more comfortable. She wasn't sure she could trust anybody who was entirely happy. "Let's get started, shall we? I got your CV through my email, and I have to say, Ms Mills, you are a very impressive woman."

"Thank you," Regina cut in out of instinct.

"But... Would you mind me asking why somebody like you is applying for a position like this?" Mary Margaret met her gaze, head tilted curiously. "You seem very professional, and I just can't help wondering..."

Regina stiffened in her seat, suddenly overly self-conscious on the label in her pencil skirt, the quality of the silk in her blouse. They'd certainly been well off in Portland, and she was an expert at keeping up appearances. She swallowed. "Yes, well," She straightened her spine, forcing herself to smile. "Moving here is a fresh start for me, if you will. Frankly, I need to support my son and if I can make a difference while doing that, all the better. I know I've had no experience in this line of work before, but I'm competent and willing to learn, Mrs Nolan."

"Oh, call me Mary Margaret, please." The mayor assured her. Her green eyes darted over Regina for a second, and she breathed in. "Look, Regina – can I call you Regina? – I'm going to be honest with you here. My daughter is a very – unhappy woman." Her voice was suddenly wavering, thick with restraint and grief. "She's not interested in anything or anyone, she doesn't want to take care of herself and my husband and I are so busy... I - We've tried everything, we don't know what to do."

Mary Margaret breathed in sharply, eyes closed for a second like she was trying not to cry. Pale fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. Regina sat stiffly across from her, unsure what to do. "Miss Nolan, I –"

The mayor shook her head, pressing her lips together. "I am sorry, Regina. I'm just being silly." She breathed in slowly, before fixing her gaze back on the other woman. "We have people from the hospital that come out every day for the physical side and her medication, but the truth is, we need someone she can't get angry at because she's not related to, to get her up in the morning, make her food and make sure she eats it. Someone who won't back down or run away."

"I don't scare easily." Regina stated, not sure what she was getting herself into. Clearly.

"I should think not." A sad smile crept across the mayor's face. "In that case, would you like to discuss hours? Forgive me for being melodramatic, Regina, but you're our last hope."

"I think a woman in your position is entitled to be melodramatic." Regina lied. Then she shook anything unprofessional away. "I have to get my son to school at half eight every morning, I can be in by nine if that's necessary –"

"That would be perfect." Mary Margaret said. "And you'll be officially working part-time, flexi-hours, so we won't be taking you away from your child at all. You'll come into our house at nine, wake her up, make her breakfast, push her wherever she needs to go. And if it's not too much to ask, maybe just... Try to motivate her. Take her places, cheer her up. If it's not too hard, Regina, maybe try and show her she still has so much to live for."

"When do I start?" Regina asked.

"Is tomorrow alright with you?"


	2. The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Regina and the rest of us to meet Emma... I forgot to mention, this fic is going to be split perspective, so I'll have some chapters solely from Regina's perspective, some solely from Emma's, and some will be a little of both. 
> 
> Also, another reminder that this is going to be a pretty slow burn fic, but good things come to those who wait. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is following and reviewing! You make my day.

“Emma?” 

There was a soft knock on her door. She didn’t answer. 

“Emma, honey, are you awake?”

More knocking. Her stomach seemed to sink and tighten at once, if that was possible.

“Emma, we’re coming in.”

Emma didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like it mattered. Her parents would just come in anyway. 

She kept staring at the blue curtains in front of her, watching the slight breeze from the window make the hem ripple and sway through the stuffy air, studying the dust motes where they waltzed in the slice of light between the cloth and the wall. The low buzz of conversation from the radio was more like white noise than anything; she wasn’t paying attention. 

The sound of the doorknob twisting made something sink in her chest. It always did. Emma swallowed, breathing in slowly and mentally preparing herself as she heard the door open behind her, heard her parents barge in. Uninvited. Unneeded. Pointless, useless, really, always just – 

“Emma?” 

Her mother’s voice was painfully soft. Practically quivering. She always sounded like that, Emma thought, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. Like she was afraid of her. Or maybe as if too loud a decibel might break her. 

“Morning.” Her father’s voice was easier, less afraid. Emma knew he was taking everything pretty damn badly: he was just a better liar. She didn’t mind. At least someone was going along with her pretty genius plan to internalize absolutely all her feelings and pretend nothing was wrong. “You’re not usually up this early.”

Emma shrugged. (Well. She shrugged _up_. Gravity did the rest.) It was true – she wasn’t. To be perfectly honest, she didn’t really see the point in getting up most days. It wasn’t like she could do anything, even if she wanted to. It wasn’t like it was worth hassling anyone to drag her around somewhere she didn’t want to go. But she’d barely slept last night and at around six in the morning she’d had enough of lying down staring at the ceiling. It was just luck she was on the early rounds with the hospital today. Sitting up staring at the curtain seemed like a nice alternative. 

“Emma.” Her mother’s voice was more even now. “Can you turn around, please? Someone’s going to be here to see you soon.”

“I don’t need to talk to Archie –” Emma huffed, clenching her jaw with the effort it took to move her finger against the button the arm of the wheelchair. She pushed through the resistance of her own body until the chair worked, turning around so she was facing the door. Her parents were standing like a pair of guilty teenagers in her doorway. 

“We’ve got someone new starting today. Regina Mills.” Mary Margaret announced tentatively, wary gaze darting over her. Emma felt a rush of self-consciousness. God only knew what she looked like – she’d been wearing the same sweats for days, and she couldn’t remember the last time her hair had seen a brush. “The – helper – we talked about.”  


“The babysitter _you_ talked about,” Emma corrected, incredulous. Some small part of her knew she was acting like a whiny teenager, but she couldn’t believe she’d _actually_ done it. She’d actually gone and hired some stupid pointless care assistant to wheel her around and wipe her chin. 

“We’ve talked about this. Your father and I agree, _Archie_ agrees.” Mary Margaret’s voice was set. Emma sighed heavily. She knew from the tone that her mother wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Just try, Emma. For us.”

For us. _For us_. Everything was for them. Every single thing she’d _done_ for the past year and a half, every goddamn breath she’d drawn was for her parents. She was a grown up woman.

She glanced down at her hands absently, where they rested on the arms of her chair by the buttons. The light from the window, searing bright, fell across her wrists like a spotlight. Emma jerked her stare abruptly back to her mother. Then she made herself nod, even if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. 

She lifted her gaze to the window. It was wide, and clean, set deeply into the white back wall so she could see the back of the garden like a TV set, blackbirds pecking at the feeders that dangled from the trees, harsh early morning sunlight spilling golden over the gardenia bushes and the swinging garden chair. Emma winced in the light. It was going to be a nice day. 

“Okay.” Emma conceded, turning back to her parents. “I’ll give her a chance. But I swear to god, if she tries to patronise me one time I’m gonna run over your feet with my chair.” 

“And we won’t blame you.” Her dad smiled, sunlight striking the buttons of his plaid shirt. He paused, giving her a look. “Be nice.”

Emma made a face. 

Once they were gone, she breathed a sigh of relief. 

She loved her parents, but they were so _tiring_. As if it wasn’t enough effort for her to get up in the morning, without them fussing and coaxing and trying so damn hard that guilt coursed through her blood like mercury, weighing her down. Already a headache was building, pounding at her temples from the inside out, like little jackhammers. Emma closed her eyes for a moment, taking refuge in the still, silent darkness behind her eyes. For just a moment, she let herself find peace in that imaginary state of nothingness. 

Then Emma gritted her teeth, brows drawing together, jaw clenching until she’d summoned enough willpower to move her finger, clumsily stabbing down on the button to turn her chair back toward the window. She blew an errant wisp of blonde hair from her face. There was enough movement in her fingers still, as long as she wasn’t trying to grip anything. The chair was perfect, built for her condition – all she had to do was force her stupid useless uncooperative waste-of-blood fingers to press the right buttons and voila: she could get around by herself. She had achieved the same level of independence as a toddler. 

Not that she ever went anywhere more interesting than the garden, but there you go. At least in the garden the birds didn’t treat her like she was special or broken or a baby or pretended so hard not to notice that all they did was notice. _God_. People would never stop doing that. Stop. That was what she wanted. She wanted to _stop_. 

Emma closed her eyes again and tried to lose herself in the darkness, but then her dad came back in with breakfast and helped her eat since the hospital people were still sorting out her usual tube, and even though it was humiliating it was also kind of nice to be able to talk to her dad without them both putting on happy fronts for her mom, and he put the radio on for her.

When he’d gone she sat and looked out the window and listened to the radio, and watched the breeze shake the dew off the gardenias, and thought that even if she didn’t particularly want to be alive it didn’t mean she should make everyone else feel the same way. 

So okay, she decided to give this woman a chance. But that absolutely did _not_ mean she needed her. 

-0-

“The annex is out here,” Mary Margaret explained, leading Regina down through the spacious garden. “It used to be a storage space but we had it converted last year. It’s just easier for her to have everything she needs on one floor.”

“That makes sense.” Regina nodded, scanning the tidy building at the end of the garden. 

It was already dazzlingly bright, the rising sun beating down soft gold light, although there was a crispness in the air that hinted at the start of winter. Already a scattering of leaves was dotted across the dewy lawn. Regina glanced down at her watch. Three minutes past nine. Already she’d been given a tour of the main house and been introduced to the mayor’s husband David, on his way to work at the sheriff’s station. Apparently he’d taken over the position full-time after his daughter’s accident.

Regina breathed in sharply. She didn’t feel either determined or strong – no more so than usual. She felt like this was the start of something. Their new life, she supposed. There had been a sense of anticipation, almost, crackling in the bracing cold air as she’d walked Henry to his new school this morning. Enrolled a week ago and he’d already made some new friends. Which was more than could be said for her. 

“One of the nurses will be in at lunchtime for her catheter and her physio,” The mayor explained, drawing to a stop outside the annex’s front door and turning to face her. “All you need to do medically is make sure she takes her anti spam meds. The pantry is stocked, you can help yourself. Try and make her something healthy, please.”

“That I can do,” Regina assured her. Mary Margaret seemed a little tense. As if she was nervous.

“Now, I’ve put you on the car insurance in case anything happens, the keys are in the bowl by the front door, but you shouldn’t need to use them.” The woman paused, and then reached into the pocket of her pea coat, holding out a neatly folded scrap of notepaper. “It’s all written down anyway. And there’s my phone number, and David’s, and the hospital in case you need anything.”

Regina took it with mounting anticipation crawling in her stomach. She had no idea what to expect from this. She barely had any idea what she was expected to do. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to, and the uncertainty made her uncomfortable. And when she was uncomfortable, she got that antsy feeling like her skin was on the edge of a knife, and she knew that could make her... Snappy. 

Which was great in the office, but probably frowned upon in this line of work. 

She forced herself to smile for the sake of the woman in front of her. “Thank you.”

Mary Margaret breathed in, mouth tight, breeze ruffling the ends of her short hair. “I’ll let you go in by yourself. I really do have to be at work and after all, she’s less likely to protest if I’m not there.”

“Okay,” Regina said cautiously. _Protest_. That sounded like another euphemism. Like how Kathryn had called her difficult. 

“Thank you, again, Regina.” Mary Margaret flashed a strained smile that vanished as soon as it had appeared. “Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Let’s hope I don’t need to,” Regina stated grimly, too distracted to bother pretending to smile.

Steeling herself, Regina clenched her jaw determinedly and closed her hand around the cold brass doorknob, before twisting and pushing through into the annex.  


Inside, the air was thick and still, lying like dust in the narrow hallway. Like it wasn’t disturbed often. It was bewilderingly quiet. Regina closed the door carefully behind her and made her way down the hallway toward what she assumed was the woman’s bedroom door, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. She couldn’t help glancing around her surroundings: they were almost surprisingly bare. From what she’d seen of the mayor and her family, they seemed the type to crowd every space available with a surplus of paintings and knick-knacks. 

She remembered what Mary Margaret had told her: _knock, but go in anyway if she doesn’t answer. Which, be warned, she probably won’t._

Regina cleared her throat and raised her hand, rapping softly against the door with her knuckles. Silence. She paused, staring down the empty hallway. Nobody was going to help her with this. Sighing, she turned back to the door. “Emma?” Nothing. Regina paused before knocking again. “Miss Swan?”

Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

Regina twisted the doorknob and gently pushed the door open. Peering around the edge, she could see the wide bright outline of a widow set into the opposite wall. The woman in the chair was sitting facing it. A low buzz of voices came from the radio on the sill. 

“Hello?” Regina tried to suppress the irritation that was creeping into her heartbeats. She wasn’t exactly the friendliest woman in the world, but she could hardly be snide with a quadriplegic. 

For a second, she was almost glad the woman was facing away from her. She knew it wasn’t exactly politically correct of her, but she couldn’t help looking at the chair. It demanded to be looked at, like a train wreck or a dead body on the news. Black and mechanical, with a high back, long arms, sturdy wheels. _I wouldn’t last a day if I was trapped in one of those things_ , Regina thought, jaw clenching uncomfortably.

“You’re not from the hospital,” The woman stated after a while, not quite accusingly, but not in a friendly way either. Her voice was rough, stucco, as if she didn’t use it often. She was still sitting staring out the window, like Regina wasn’t there. 

“No.” Regina agreed bluntly. She lingered by the door, unsure what she was supposed to do. 

Then, very slowly, the wheelchair turned around to face her, emitting a low mechanical whirr. The woman sitting in it was staring at her with hard green eyes, full of reflected sunlight and exhaustion. And despite the state of her wild blonde hair, and the dark circles under her eyes, when a slow almost-smile pricked over her thin lips, she could see she should have been pretty. She could see a glimmer of how she must have looked when she was happy. 

“Good.” Emma met her gaze unwaveringly, smile twitching wider. “I hate those nerds.”

-0-

“So who are you with?” Emma asked, fingers twitching lightly against the arms of her chair. They did that sometimes. She squinted at the woman in the bright morning light. She couldn’t quite work out what her deal was. Dark haired, sharply dressed, irritatingly beautiful. She was just staring at her, arms folded over her chest – it only added to the _don’t even try and see any of my thoughts or feelings_ energy she was currently rocking. Emma’s stare flickered from her killer heels to her silk blouse. “Forgive me for assuming, but you don’t look like the average care worker type.”

“I’m not.” Regina admitted. It took a moment for her meet her gaze. Her voice was low and rich, like the voice of a radio actress or a dead queen. A pleasant change from the patronising nurses’ coos she was used to. “If I’m being honest, you’re my first.”

Her parents were too much almost a hundred percent of the time, but Emma couldn’t help inwardly thanking them for hiring Pretty Lady Carer for her. She wasn’t exactly interested in anything, but she could still appreciate the aesthetic, and it was nice to know they cared. 

“Let me guess,” Emma managed to summon a half-hearted smile. “Law firm? Or... office manager?” 

Regina arched a perfect eyebrow as if she’d been rehearsing the motion all her life. In fact, Emma thought, everything she did looked that way. It should have been more annoying than it actually was. “Am I that readable?” She asked dryly. 

“No more so than the paralysed ex-cop living in her parents backyard,” Emma assured her as genuinely as she could. She forced a smile, even if saying the words still put a lump in her throat and an itch in her hands that she would never be able to scratch. The words hung in the air for a minute. 

“So can I get you a cup of tea?” Regina asked, shiny brisk-professional veneer spreading over her.

“Not a big tea fan. Coffee would be nice, I guess.” Emma conceded. Truthfully, she didn’t give a damn what she ate or drank as long a it got everyone off her back, but she was glad the other woman had broken the silence. “The hospital people usually bring me coffee.” The brunette’s posture stiffened immediately, moving to go and do as she’d asked. Emma tried to catch her eye before she did. “But don’t rush. I mean, it’s not a big deal.” 

“No, I’ll do it.” Regina assured her. “I don’t think you mother’s paying me to stand around making small talk all day.”

_That’s exactly what she’s paying you for_ , Emma thought, as she left the room with her heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floors. Mary Margaret would throw a fit if she saw those heels on the hardwood floors. The thought put a smile on her face, even it only lasted a moment. She liked that Regina had been kind of rude about the small talk as well, openly acknowledging it. Ever since the accident the whole world seemed to be pussyfooting around her – she didn’t realise she’d missed bad manners until now. 

She heard Regina moving around in her little kitchenette, crumpling packets, clacking shoes. Emma turned her gaze back out to the window, watching a pigeon scuff around in the undergrowth without really seeing it.

After a few minutes, she heard the door open and twisted around to see the other woman pushing into the room, balancing a tray in her serious, manicured hands. Emma studied her, forcing herself to be interested in something other than the back of her own eyelids. Her dark hair was shining in the sunlight from the window, bouncing over her shoulders as she carried the drinks, full lips tight, brow furrowed. The drinks – one ordinary black coffee, and one mug of something topped with an absurd amount of cream – were not what Emma had expected.

“That does not look like coffee,” Emma stated, raising her eyebrows and watching Regina pull the little table around in front of them and set the tray on it. 

“You didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about the coffee.” Regina explained. 

Emma glanced up at her. She just exuded a sense of togetherness, of knowing exactly what she was doing – although whether that was the outfit or the lipstick she couldn’t say. Even so, she thought she caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her wide brown eyes as she waited for her response. Of course, she had to put her at ease. “It’s cool.” She forced another smile. How many was that now? In one day? _Must be some kind of record_. “It’s actually nice to have something different happen for once.” Emma admitted, twitching her head slightly to jerk her matted blonde curls away from her neck.

“It’s hot chocolate,” Regina explained, still looking a little anxious. “Do you have anything to –”

“Yeah, there’s a hands-free drinking system in the cupboard,” Emma nodded. “In the kitchen. You just put it on the cup. It’s the thing that looks like a clippy bendy straw. And there’s a kinda tray attachment for the chair as well. I should have mentioned that before.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Miss Swan,” Regina told her. “This my job.”

When she zipped off to gather all the equipment needed for Emma to have a damn drink by herself, Emma tried not to glance down at her fingers. A familiar heaviness had already settled in her chest like dust at thought of the attachments, annoyance prickling down her stupid spine. The least she needed was to catch a glimpse of herself and feel that horrible feeling she always got when saw the useless mass of blood and bone and muscle she was currently stuck in.

She shook the thoughts off. She’d been doing okay. She hadn’t yelled at this one yet, and she didn’t intend to break her record just because she hated having to eat and drink like a fucking _baby_. 

“These are the right ones, I assume?” Regina closed the door carefully behind her, crossing the room and holding out the attachments. 

“Yep,” Emma muttered. Her voice sounded tight and weird in her ears. She watched Regina go to her cup first, dark eyes narrowed as her fingers manipulated the plastic. “It just slots onto the top of the cup, yeah, like that. And the tray goes like –” 

She swallowed hard as she was hit by a sudden wave of floral perfume. _Shit. Fuck. Pretty lady carer might not be such a good idea._ Emma’s breath stuck in her throat, watching Regina frowning at the wheelchair tray, about an inch away. Her necklace was practically dangling in her face. 

Emma swallowed hard. “Just goes in the bit by the armrest – if you –” She stared hopelessly as Regina leaned forward to set the tray in place. _Don’t look down her top, don’t look down her top, do not look down her top you worthless crippled pervert._ A wave of dark hair had fallen to brush against the side of her face. Her brow was furrowed, her jaw was tight with focus. There was a small scar on her upper lip Emma hadn’t noticed before. Her perfume smelt expensive. Emma hadn’t bothered with perfume in years. 

After what seemed like ten years, the tray finally clicked in place and Regina stepped back abruptly, movements brisk as she set the hot chocolate on the tray and hastily, efficiently arranged the drinking aid with only a little instruction. 

The brunette hung stiffly by the window, guarded and professional. Emma looked away from her, tentatively trying the hot chocolate for the first time. She loved hot chocolate before the accident. She just hadn’t bothered to ask for it since. It was just another thing she didn’t really care about. It was good. Hot and sweet, with a little bite she hadn’t been expecting. The taste took her back a few years to a time when everything was normal.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing!” Emma exclaimed despite herself, feeling her eyebrows draw together and her mouth fall open. She stared over at the caretaker. “And that extra kick – is that cinnamon?” Regina nodded. “I used put cinnamon on everything! How’d you know?”

“My son takes it like that.” Regina informed her slowly, almost guiltily. 

Emma shot her an equally guilty, grateful smile. “How old is your son?”

“He’s nine.” 

Emma almost smiled without effort. Regina’s voice had shifted slightly at the mention of her son; lighter and warmer. More comfortable, somehow. How a mom should sound. Her whole face had changed, in fact, for a split second; turned soft and human suddenly by the thought of her family.

“Well that makes me feel good.” Emma joked, though where she found the effort to she had no idea. She just kept surprising herself today. She raised an eyebrow at the brunette, shooting her a look. “I expect a kickass bedtime story before you go.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Regina told her. Lips turning up at the edges. Yep – she’d definitely softened up at the mention of her kid. “Henry turns into a little prince whenever I try. I do the voices wrong, apparently.”

Her son’s name was Henry. Of course it was. Emma almost smiled, mind filled with images of a precocious little kid with a granddad name demanding bedtime stories. She took another drink of hot chocolate. “So if you don’t mind me asking, Miss Successful Career Lady, how’d you end up making kid’s drinks for cripples in the back end of nowhere?”

She glanced over at the other woman, watched something shift behind her brown eyes. Regina opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “It’s a long story.” She shook her head slightly, folding her arms over her chest. “I won’t bore you with the details.”

_I’m used to being bored_ , Emma wanted to tell her. _I wouldn’t mind you boring me_. But somehow that seemed a bit weird, so she didn’t say anything. 

“I should go see if there’s any laundry,” Regina stated suddenly, smoothing down her hair and going to leave. 

“Okay,” Emma glanced after her. “I’ll be here. Just... Here.”


	3. About Pity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know you're all wondering where the 'difficult' woman was last chapter... Well, Emma has bad days and she has good days. Emma also acts differently towards different people in different situations, and unfortunately for her, a lot of what she perceives as normal behaviour is taken differently by different people. AKA the people Regina talks to. I'll be addressing that more next chapter.
> 
> Also, I promise Emma is going to get out of the house soon. Please bear with her, she is very antisocial and problematic.
> 
> Once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed and supported this!

So Regina fell into her new routine. It was as quick and easy as she'd heard falling asleep was for other people.

She woke up in the morning. She made Henry breakfast, walked him to school. She tried and failed to avoid being goaded into conversation with the gaggle of banal mothers she saw at the school gates every day. She went to the annex in the mayor's garden and cooked and cleaned for an uncomfortably deprived woman. She came home. She cooked and cleaned for herself. She got coffee with Kathryn. She entertained some terse exchanges with Robin when he Skyped with Henry. And she went to bed at night. Easy as one two three.

The reality of each of those things was not quite so simple, but the routine was good. And it was nice to sleep without the city noise rushing on all night.

And though she saw her strange new job as just another necessary mark to check off her list of things to do to support her son, worrying about Emma Swan had also become an integral part of Regina's routine.

It wasn't like she'd meant to. It just _happened_.

Much like her first day, the rest of their encounters had stayed professional and acceptably polite, borderline friendly, although Emma had become quieter and more withdrawn as they'd slipped into routine. Neither of them pried. Neither of them was rude. It was a perfectly acceptable arrangement.

Except how could it be? How could it ever be normal and painfully polite and slightly awkward when she was constantly faced with the fact that the woman _could not move_. 

It hit Regina the hardest when she let herself into the main house for the first time.

She usually walked around the back and let herself straight into the annex if David or Mary Margaret were both out, but she'd taken a detour on the way. She was already in a bad mood, having barely escaped some Republican soccer mom babbling around the school gates. Cursing under her breath, she managed to turn the right key in the lock and push through into the foyer, snapping her umbrella closed. Mary Margaret had told her she could leave her things in the porch, so she did, stripping her coat off and smoothing her hair down with a sigh.

Then she fished the annex key from her purse and made her way through the main house toward the back door. She was in the hallway when the picture caught her eye. There was a whole trail of them, framed and gleaming along every available surface. None of them were anything remarkable; wedding photos, birthday photos, old family Christmas photos. But when that specific one snagged her gaze, Regina couldn't look away.

It showed David Nolan, leaning against one of the police cars and grinning in the sunlight. Beside him was a woman with a friendly smile dimpling her face: her arms were folded casually, her blonde hair was clean and full of sunlight. Her eyes were bright, squinting in the sun. She was wearing a plaid shirt, Sheriff's badge glinting at her belt. Regina stared at the photograph trapped behind the glass, heart sinking in her chest. She was looking at Emma Swan, pre-accident.

Breath caught in her throat, she couldn't help her gaze drifting over the other photos: Emma, wearing a baseball cap and jersey and pulling a face; Emma, sitting in a booth at the diner, fork suspended in the air; Emma, wearing a tinsel boa and decorating a Christmas tree; Emma, laughing, Emma, standing, Emma, goofing around.

Regina swallowed, something in her chest shifting heavily. To be _so_ full of life one minute, so able, and the next... She couldn't seem to look away.

And while she stared, Regina quickly realised that all those small smiles they'd been exchanging the past few weeks weren't real. Not in the way the ones in the pictures were. They'd been genuine but they hadn't been real – they hadn't been thoughtless or effortless, wide, goofy, unabashed. They'd been weak and accompanied by dark circles instead of bright eyes. They'd taken work. The contrast was startling.

Regina narrowed her eyes at the photo, wondering if she'd ever smiled the way Emma used to around anyone except Henry. She wondered if Emma would smile like that again. She wondered if it was better to have smiled that way at all than... She set the picture back down, thumb brushing absently over the glass.

She couldn't even imagine...

"See anything interesting?"

She spun around, heart jolting. Emma was looking over at her from her chair down the hall, fingers twitching against the buttons. One eyebrow was half lifted, like she was trying to be friendly, but her jaw was tight and there was something more painful and agitated behind her green eyes.

Regina paused, opening her mouth. "I wasn't trying to pry." She assured her.

"Okay." Emma said, uninterestedly. Her voice was flat and somehow dry. "The rest of my photographs are in my bedroom drawer if you're interested."

"I told you, it wasn't like that," Regina snapped, irritated. Something about being caught pitying this woman grated her the wrong way.

"Whatever," Emma glanced away from her, fingers working clumsily against the buttons to turn herself around. "We can go now. I only came over here to put my dad's Bourne boxset back."

Regina felt a furrow appear between her brows, mouth tight. "Don't you want me to push you?"

"I can do it myself," The blonde told her, and for the first time since they'd met, Regina detected a hint of resentment in her voice, rough and cracking like a whip. So Regina clenched her jaw and followed her out through the garden to the annex, a terse silence flying jaggedly between them. She tried not to look at Emma's face when she leaned over to open the door for her.

She opened the door to the bedroom for her, too, but the moment she went to step inside Emma told her sharply that there was a fresh load of laundry to do. The message was clear. Regina was all to happy to turn the TV on for her, position the remote so she could use it and then stalk off. She did _not_ need some angry, self-loathing quadriplegic getting under her skin.

After putting the laundry on and rigorously running the vacuum over the hallway a few times, Regina paused and checked her phone to see if Henry or Kathryn had called. They hadn't. She found herself walking back into the kitchen, trying to find something else she could legitimately do. She could hear Emma watching TV obnoxiously loudly through the wall. Huffing, she glanced at the clock. 11:34.

Partly because she wasn't sure if Emma had eaten breakfast, but mostly because she hated not having anything to do when she was annoyed, Regina moved through the cupboards, pulling out the components of a sandwich.

Regina glared at the plate in front of her, gripping the knife and spreading butter across the bread as calmly as she could, forcing herself to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out. Fingers moving hastily, she finished making the sandwich, put the plate on a tray and tossed the knife into the sink. _What the hell am I doing?_

She turned around, leaning against the kitchen side and exhaling heavily. Three months ago she'd been sitting in the Locksley penthouse, filling out reports for work in Portland, and now, somehow, inexplicably, she was standing in the kitchen of a sad small-town mayor, making a sandwich for her angry, crippled, adult daughter. Regina pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to stay sane.

Well, she'd said she was going to do this job and damn it, she was going to do it. Her son was in school right now, being happy, making friends, relying on her. So she was going to do this job, whether Emma Swan liked it or not.

Steeling herself, the brunette breathed in, straightened her posture, clenched her jaw and started into the hallway with the tray. She stopped outside the woman's bedroom and knocked sharply on the door. No answer, except canned laughter coming from the TV. Sighing determinedly, Regina turned the doorknob and pushed inside.

Emma's chair was facing the TV, light from the window glancing off the chair and her blonde hair. She showed no intention of turning around.

Regina tried not to wrinkle her nose. The room was a tip, worse than the bedroom of her nine year old son if she was being brutally honest. The sheets needed changing, there were crumpled sweaters all over the floor, clutter crowded every available surface and the curtains were firmly drawn shut. She wondered if Emma had really been having a bad day or whether she was just giving her more work to do out of spite.

She cleared her throat loudly. The blonde's jaw clenched.

"I brought you a sandwich." Regina told her, holding out the tray.

"Wow," Emma's voice was a complete monotone. Her green eyes remained firmly fixed on the TV screen. "I didn't know my parents got me a fifties housewife."

"I thought you might be hungry." Regina snapped, irritated. She didn't know where this sudden anger had come from - she'd been looking at pictures, not burning them.

"I'm not," Emma huffed, begrudgingly pressing the remote buttons to turn the volume down. She glanced over at her, green eyes flicking up and down once. Though her mouth was still tight, something in her eyes softened. "But thanks."

"Should I stay?" The brunette asked cautiously. She put the tray down on the little coffee table, just in case she wanted it later.

"If you want," Emma shrugged. Her voice was empty and quiet, but she seemed to have calmed down since this morning's outburst. Or maybe it was just the thought of before that did that to her. Regina remembered her interview, Mary Margaret saying she needed someone Emma couldn't shout at just because they were related. She sat down tentatively on the other chair, beside her.

She breathed in slowly, hearing the tension in the air and counting the beats of her heart before carefully attempting to dissolve it.

"If it means anything," Regina began, brown eyes searching for green. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"I don't want your pity." Emma muttered, carefully avoiding her gaze. "That's why I got angry at you this morning. You were pitying me. You were looking at those pictures wondering what it must be like to live like that and then suddenly have to live like this."

"I'm not going to deny it if that's what you want." Regina told her simply, stare fixed firmly in front of her. "Of course I was thinking that. I'm sorry it's unpleasant for you but it's only natural."

"Yeah, whatever," The blonde muttered.

In the background, the now-almost-inaudible TV played on. It was some cheesy sitcom, attractive actors making fools of themselves and moping. Regina glanced at it for a moment as the two of them sunk into taut silence, sitting beside each other. The air between them was strained and buzzing – it wormed its way under Regina's skin, stuck to her bones.

She felt tense, snappy. On her first day she'd told herself not to be harsh with this woman no matter how uncertain she felt, but wasn't that exactly what Emma hated? Being treated differently just because she had a disability? Wasn't it more wrong of her to supress what she wanted to say just because the woman she wanted to say it to was in a wheelchair?

"For the record," Regina heard herself saying suddenly, voice sharp and clear. "As long as you keep pitying yourself, everyone else is going to do the exact same thing."

"Excuse me?" Emma turned to frown at her. Her brows were furrowed, mouth twisted into a scowl, green eyes flickering over her.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to back down now.

"You're pitying yourself." Regina informed her. "That's why you sleep half the day and refuse to ask for anything or make an effort to do anything. This may be my first job in care, Miss Swan, but I've done my research. There are plenty of people in your condition who are leading full, well-rounded lives and the only person stopping you from doing that is yourself." She paused, watching the words sink in, watching the shift behind Emma's bright green eyes. Then she pursed her lips. "You're frustrating."

Emma shook her head slightly, pointedly not looking at her. "All due respect, lady, but you don't know what you're talking about."

"I used to be a lot like you." Regina told her, narrowing her eyes at her. "Never letting anyone help me, never letting anyone pity me, pitying myself, blaming everyone else for my problems."

"Well I see why my mom hired you," Emma muttered irritably, giving her a sharp look. "Must have been your sunny disposition."

"Stop being a victim, Emma." Regina snapped bluntly. "It doesn't help anyone, least of all yourself."

"Why do you even care?" Emma asked, and her voice was an octave lower and a world softer than it had been before. Still harsh, but Regina caught the whisper of a tremor on the underside of her words. She was looking at her again now, lips slightly parted, green eyes genuine.

"I care because this is my job now." Regina told her honestly. "There are two things I take seriously in this world, and those are my son, and my work. This is my work now, whether we like it or not."

"You know," Emma muttered, with a begrudging hint of a smile. "The hospital people usually just ask me how my day's been and go."

"Yes, well, they also change your catheter." Regina stated darkly. "Neither that nor politeness was in my job description."

Emma squinted at her. "You're kind of mean."

Regina stared down at her folded hands in her lap, dark wave of hair falling against the side of her face. "So I've been told."

"I like it." Emma confessed suddenly.

Regina stared sharply up at her, sure she'd misheard. "I'm sorry, you what?"

"I like it." The blonde woman's face was suddenly happier, more at ease than she'd ever seen. Her green eyes met hers, wide and openly, lips not quite curving into a smile and not quite not. "People are usually disgustingly nice to me. I could say I ran over their cat and they'd give me a hug and a vase of flowers. I don't even like flowers."

"No flowers. Noted." Regina said.

And just like that, all the awkwardness and strain that had been filling the air between them was suddenly, irrevocably gone. Sometimes, Regina reflected, it all it took was a little brutal honesty.


	4. Difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, August is a nurse now because I love August and I firmly believe the world needs more of him. Also, after this, I promise Emma will finally gtfo of her pimp house. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, commenting and following! Big love!

“... And then we had to write a story about it, and Nick read mine and he said it was the best, and I think I’m gonna get a gold star on it. And then at recess we found these birds that were in the trees, and –” Henry’s hundred-mile-an-hour monologue crashed abruptly. “Where’s my space lamp?”

“I saw it earlier,” Regina scanned the room, gaze snagging on the box labelled ‘H bedroom’, sitting on the bed half-unpacked. She fished through piles of books until her fingers brushed bubble wrap. Regina pulled it out and methodically unwrapped the packaging. “You want it by your bed?” 

“Yes please.” Henry nodded, still lining up books on his new shelf. “What was I talking about?”

“Birds in the trees,” Regina reminded him, leaning up to place his space lamp on the bedside table. They’d almost finished unpacking now. The house, she reflected, was starting to look like a home. 

“Oh! Right. And we asked one of the big kids what they were and she didn’t know so we asked a teacher and he didn’t know either, so once I’m done unpacking I’m gonna look in my bird book and see if I can find it.”

“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m nearly done here.” Regina stepped back to survey her work. _Their_ work. For a nine year old, Henry really did have a strong work ethic. He helped her because he wanted to help her, not because he knew it was the polite thing to do. It made her immeasurably proud – she just hoped he never lost that.

“Really?” Henry spun around, wearing a grin that was one hundred percent too big for his small pale face. “I’m pretty much done too. Wait –” He reached up on his tiptoes to grab one fat hardcover off his shelf, huffing with exertion. Regina watched him with warmth spreading through her chest and a smile playing over her lips. How she’d made someone so remarkable was beyond her. 

Henry ran over to jump on his new bed, moving one of the empty boxes out of his way and dropping it on the floor. Squirming his way up against the headboard, her son patted the space beside him rapidly. “C’mon! Let’s find out what the bird was!”

“Right,” Regina climbed onto the bed beside him. It was a single bed, and a child’s single bed at that – they barely fitted. But when Henry heaved the book – _The Penguin Encyclopaedia of Birds_. He’d asked for it last Christmas. Whether it was because Robin did conservation work or because he was simply destined to be a genius, he’d been quite adamant he’d rather have that than a new bike. In the end he got both, because Regina had absolutely no self control where her son was concerned. – across both their laps and flipped it open, she had never been in a more comfortable place. “So what did this mysterious bird look like?”

“It was really little,” Henry said, squinting at the glossy page. “And it had these kinda blueish feathers. But it wasn’t a blue tit.”

“Little with blue feathers,” Regina repeated, scanning the shiny pages. “How little? This little?” She motioned with her hands, close together. 

Henry laughed. “Not that little!”

“Okay, not that little,” Regina allowed. 

He looked so happy, hazel eyes bright as they flipped through the book together, and Regina couldn’t help feeling a tug in her chest as she watched him. “Henry?” She found herself asking, in one of the breaks in his endless stream of enthusiasm. He looked over at her, eyes wide. She paused. “Are you happy – here?”

“Of course I am,” Henry shrugged, like it was that obvious. He didn’t even look up from the book. “Everyone’s really nice.”

“I mean... Do you miss Portland?” She probed gently, studying his face. “Do you miss Daddy?”

Henry stared from the open book to her, brows knitted together. “I missed him being around at first. Now I’m just used to it, I guess. But I’m gonna stay with him soon, and we Skype all the time. We didn’t really see him anyway, he was always working.” 

“Henry...” Regina sighed, throat suddenly tight. What if she’d done the wrong thing? She and Robin had agreed, but... 

“What about you?” Henry piped suddenly, wide eyes staring into hers. “Are you happy here?” He hesitated, mouth open. “I didn’t think you were really happy before.” 

Regina’s heart melted a little bit. “I will be.” She nodded, smiling. There were tears stinging her eyes, for some reason. She breathed in slowly. “Don’t you worry about me, Henry. Don’t you worry about me at all.” 

And then she put her arm around his narrow shoulders, and he put his head against her shoulder, and they read about birds until it was bedtime, and Regina couldn’t help thinking that as long as she had Henry, there wasn’t anything in the world she couldn’t handle. 

“Mom?” Henry asked, voice sleepy, just as she was tucking him in. He was frowning at his space lamp, now glowing softly against the fresh-painted walls. She glanced over his tired face, absently brushing the hair off his forehead. He didn’t complain like he would have done in Portland. “Why are there so many stars?”

“Well,” Regina said diplomatically. “It’s because some of the stars we can see don’t really exist anymore. Some died a long time ago, but their light is still reaching earth.”

“Oh,” Henry considered. “I thought it was just cause the universe’s so –” he yawned. “ _Big_.”

“That too,” Regina acquiesced, small smile playing over her lips, heart clenching. 

“Night, Mom.”

“Goodnight, Henry.”

And as she was making her way back to her own empty bedroom, Regina couldn’t help thinking that love was like stars: it shone far longer than it burned. Maybe that’s why she’d stayed with Robin so long. They knew they were dead but everybody else still saw their light, so they played along. Maybe that’s why Mother still touched her hair and kissed her cheek when she did something she approved of. 

If she was really running the gambit with the unbearable metaphor, Regina couldn’t go to sleep without realising that if that was the case, Henry was the sun. Henry was the one star that was eternal and so was his light. 

Half asleep, she wondered whether there would ever be another sun. Quite frankly, she doubted it. And that was fine. 

Something like that would throw the whole balance of her universe off anyway. 

-0-

Something was banging.   
Emma groaned, pushing her face further into her pillow. Somehow, she found the strength to mumble _go away_. 

“Wake up. Emma, wake up.” The banging persisted. It was accompanied by the rich female voice she was gradually getting used to, now harsh and slightly annoyed. Emma frowned into the creases in her bedsheets. “You better be awake because we’re coming in.”

Through her sleep-clouded haze, annoyance twinged at her. Already she could feel her heart starting to beat faster and sink at the same time, already she was getting that weird feeling like her whole body was sighing. Emma frowned into the pillow, breathing in the laundry detergent smell. Her hair was tickling the back of her neck. She wanted to push it away. She wanted to go back to sleep and not get up again. She swallowed, throat dry. 

“Fine, have it your way.” The voice muttered outside the door, before Emma heard the doorknob twisting and the hinges squeaking and heels clacking against the hardwood floors. “I know you’re awake.”

“It’s like, the middle of the night, Regina,” Emma complained, voice rough from sleep. 

“It’s nine thirty in the morning,” Regina corrected, and Emma kept staring at the other side of the bed as the brunette clicked across the floor to throw the curtains open. 

“Hey! Shit,” Emma groaned, wincing away from the sudden burst of light. “Too bright.” 

“Yes, that would be the sun,” Regina informed her dryly. Emma craned her neck, squinting against the sunlight above the softness of her bed to see the other woman striding back across the room to the door. “She’s awake, you can come in.”

“What?” Emma frowned, head flopping back down against the pillows. _What fresh hell is this?_ Jesus. She liked Regina and everything, but the world needed to leave her the fuck alone. 

“It’s Tuesday, August’s here.” Regina reminded her, voice clipped and brisk, not that she knew who August was, let alone met him before. “And I’m going to go and put breakfast on.” Emma frowned, craning to catch a glimpse of dark hair and silk shirt moving swiftly into the hallway.

“Hey, Swan,” A familiar masculine voice called from the doorway. She glared at the ceiling, hearing his shoes fall softly against the floor as he came in. “It’s your favourite nurse.”

Emma groaned theatrically. 

August Booth had been one of her regular nurses for the last year, and over that year he’d clawed his way from annoying acquaintance to annoying older brother status. They kind of got off on annoying each other, but they walked a fine line between teasing and actual _I will run over your feet with my goddamn wheelchair if you don’t shut up about the dorky stories my mom tells you._

She huffed, turning her stare back onto the ceiling. He was smart. He was writing a book. And he’d never, not once tried to bullshit her. Honestly... He was the closest thing she had to a friend. 

“Then get your ass over here and do your job,” She muttered. 

“Still not a morning person?” He laughed, and then turned to call out the open door. “Honestly, you’re a very brave woman, Ms Mills! Mayor better be paying you a lot to get this ray of sunshine out of bed in the morning.”

“Shut up,” Emma snapped, but August’s appearance had actually put her in a better mood. She hadn’t seen him for a while. “Seriously, asshole, come do your job.”

Still in her sweats, hair tangled in a birds nest mess around her face, Emma huffed as August helped her out of bed and into her chair, wheeling her across the room and over by the window before turning back to his pillboxes. “I got your new anti-spams here,” He told her, absently rubbing his jaw where his dark beard was growing in. He was already in his blue hospital scrubs for the day’s work. She guessed she was his first call. 

“Great,” Emma muttered. “Living the dream.”

August laughed, capping the orange pill bottle and smoothing out her prescription. “You asked me to do my job.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma gave him a look to show what she thought of that. She paused, glancing back over her rumpled bedsheets. “If you don’t make my bed Regina’s gonna have to do it and she’s gonna go all weird and perfectionist about it. She does that with, like, everything.”

“On it,” August assured her, finishing up marking the meds and moving to straighten the covers. “So,” He shot her look as he tossed her pillows against the headboard. “ _Regina_.”

“Yeah,” Emma shrugged. She felt defensive, for some reason. _Probably just tired_. She stretched her neck as much she could, trying to shake the hair out of her face. August finished making her bed, turning to her with an unimpressed look on his face. “What?”

“Nothing!” August flashed a white grin. “She’s just very attractive and your age, that’s all.”

“August, seriously.” She deepened her glare, closing her mouth and tightening her jaw. If she could have, she’d have folded her arms over her chest. At least she could still sigh. “My parents think I’m depressed so they bought me a friend, or something.”

“ _Friend_ ,” August repeated scathingly, one thick eyebrow raised. His mouth was still curling up into an incredulous smirk. Emma scowled at him, but apparently that wasn’t enough to make him break his stare. “She’s a housewife. You know she’s your housewife, right?” 

“Excuse me?” Emma lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you _weren’t_ a douchebag. And also, she’d probably stab you with one of her heels if she heard you say that, so... watch out.”

“She cooks for you and cleans for you and wears nice blouses.”

“She also yells at me and tells me I’m a self-pitying wreck.” Emma added. “A lot.”

“See?” August grinned. “Primary function of a wife.” 

“Just because you don’t have any game,” Emma muttered sourly. That wasn’t actually true. August was handsome and smart and cultured and basically an all round hot guy nurse. If she’d been into men, she’d see the appeal.

August chuckled good-naturedly, dark eyes glancing at the watch on his wrist. She watched him busy himself with disposing of the old meds, brow furrowed. He was joking, right? He’d been joking about Regina? Still, something about it rattled her. Her skin felt weird. He knew she wasn’t interested in anyone that way, hadn’t been since the accident. She was barely even a person, she couldn’t be like that with another person and to be honest she doubted she ever would be.

So she sat stiffly in her chair, fingers twitching on the armrest. August did his job. Regina came in with coffee. August left, keys rattling, grin white. And after way too long, Regina returned with a tray and plate. Emma glanced up, watching her slip around the door.

She set the plate down on the side to lean down and fiddle with the tray attachment for a second, but she was thankfully smoothly adept at that now, so there was no more awkwardly trying not to stare at her cleavage. Well. Not as much, at least. Emma shook the thought off, instead turning her attention to the food on her plate.

She felt a furrow appear between her brows. What the hell happened to her usual? She ordered most of her food, or else someone from the hospital brought it. And that was all boring dry sandwiches or amazing greasy grilled cheese. What she was looking at now was... _Weird. Definitely weird_. Emma frowned, mouth twisting in distaste. “What the hell is this?”

Regina stared at her like she was stupid. “It’s breakfast.”

“Why’s it green?” Emma demanded, fazed.

“Because it’s real food that’s good for you.” Regina informed her briskly. Emma narrowed her eyes at the weird _small_ poached egg, the stiff brown bread, the salad. Regina looked unamused. “You hired me to be your carer, and caring for you means not letting you eat anymore Granny’s takeout for breakfast.”

“Technically my mom hired you,” Emma muttered, unimpressed. She eyed the egg suspiciously. 

“People think you’re difficult, you know.” Regina told her suddenly, sitting down elegantly in the chair beside her, legs crossing effortlessly.  
Emma glanced up sharply. Regina was looking at her with the same almost-unreadable glaze she’d been wearing since the first day. Her brown eyes, ringed with a darker shade and spoked with a thousand others, were staring, her mouth, painted red, was set in a firm line. 

Emma sighed, glancing from her plate to the other woman. “Yep.”

“All this time people have been telling me you’re hard work, unpredictable, difficult to handle, but all I’ve seen is a well-meaning if somewhat societally lacking woman doing her best to deal with the circumstances life has handed her.” Regina informed her. She said all of this tightly and politely, like she still wasn’t giving Emma an inch of her actual thoughts and feelings. “Then you were a diva about breakfast, so...”

“I’m gonna assume that first bit was a compliment.” _Wait a minute..._ Emma frowned, head snapping back up. “Who’s people?”

Regina’s perfectly coiffed brows drew together slightly. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Well, I don’t want to name names but just people that I’ve met around. School moms. If I’m being honest my friend Kathryn Spencer has made a few choice euphemisms.”

“Yeah, well your friend Kathryn is kind of a bitch.” 

“Now who’s the mean one?” Regina retorted, but her voice was clear and she didn’t sound upset. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

“Yeah, well,” Emma cast her stare back onto the breakfast plate. 

Regina didn’t say anything. So they sat there in silence for what could have been a second or a century, sinking deeper into the still stagnant air. Emma could hear the brunette’s breathing, a gentle rhythm. They were on okay terms as both of them settled into the new arrangement, but there was still an undeniable awkwardness between them. They were basically strangers – and yet here they were. Every minute of every day. 

“I think people say that ‘cause I haven’t really been out and around them for a while,” Emma heard her own voice confessing suddenly. She kept her eyes trained on the gleaming white windowsill in front of her, swallowing the breath that snagged in her throat. “Just like, to the store and stuff.” She blinked, looking down into her lap. “Last time I did didn’t go so well.”

“Oh?” 

Emma could feel Regina looking at her, feel her dark eyes gently seeking hers. That rich voice was soft, and almost awkward, unsure. For some reason, it put a whisper of a smile on her face.

She wasn’t sure why she was saying this. Her mouth just couldn’t seem to stop; it was as if she’d scratched the scab in her chest and all these words had suddenly been dislodged, flowing out of her freely like blood from a wound. She hadn’t said anything _real_ for so long... She was almost scared to stop.

“It was maybe a few months ago. I was just having a bad day, I guess. And I was at the diner and everyone was just going on and looking at me and pretending that they got it or whatever, and it was just too much, you know?” Emma paused, breathing in slowly. Her brows drew together slightly, mouth curling into a wince as she remembered the day, the anger. The same kind of fury still simmered under her skin, all the time. It didn’t stop. She was just better at supressing it now. It just went inwards instead of out now. She cleared her throat. “I kind of flipped. Yelled at everyone. Some pretty bad shit.”

Emma clenched her jaw, blinking away the stinging building behind her eyes. Her throat was rough, her voice was harsh and unfamiliar in her ears. As she spoke, it turned small and hard like a rock. “I know they’re only trying to help me. The people in the diner, my parents, whoever. It just doesn’t matter, you know, nobody can _know_ , nobody can really get it. I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning because there’s no reason for me to, there’s no point me doing anything. There’s no point me even being alive.”

The silence that followed was painfully loud. So loud it made her brain hurt. Loud with an echo of the words she’d just let escape her – words she’d kept locked up so tight so long the goddamn lock had rusted shut. Emma frowned down at her wrists, watching her pulse throb defiantly under her skin. She winced in the sunlight.   
She didn’t know why she’d just said all that. 

After a long time, she swallowed hard and summoned the courage to slowly turn her gaze sideways towards the carer she’d just probably freaked out and alienated for the rest of their lives. 

Regina’s lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide and shining. She looked human. She looked hurt. She looked like someone who wanted to say a thousand things but knew she wouldn’t. Emma swallowed.

Heat prickled across her cheeks. She needed to keep talking, bury those words with other words. But when she did, she could hear her voice shaking a little. Whatever. Maybe that was just her hands on the arms of the chair. “I mean, I _do_ care about them, I do want to make them happy. I want to _try_.” Emma sighed, swallowing the lump of tears building in her throat. “It’s just... hard.”

“Of course it is,” Regina’s voice was sudden and soft, a half-forgotten melody. When Emma turned her head, her dark eyes were wide and shining and sincere. She held her gaze. “Nothing that’s easy makes you feel whole.”

Emma’s gaze flickered over her once, twice. She could feel her heart beating defiantly in her chest, a traitor. The brunette was looking at her with sadness in her eyes, and something else too, but not pity. Never pity. In fact, there was something resolute, something almost relatable in the line of her lips and between her eyebrows. The way her eyes were shining made Emma wonder about her own past – the life she kept locked up so tightly inside herself. 

Regina swallowed; Emma could see the movement in her throat. It was weird seeing stuff like that, reminders this woman was really human when she just exuded something superhuman. 

“I think that’s true,” Emma replied, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“But you should know that difficulty only means you need to persist.” Regina continued, a hint of urgency in her voice. Her dark eyes were wide, staring, like she was trying to convey everything through her gaze instead of her words; that would be just like her, after all. “You’re too young to give up, Emma. You’ve got too much left. I know you don’t want to hear that right now but if you don’t listen then you might as well have died in that crash.”

The words made her stomach twist. Harsh but true. Regina’s voice was still hard and almost shaky, like she was about to start crying. _Good job, Emma._

“Maybe.” Emma frowned. She felt the furrow between her brows deepen, the pounding in her hollow chest increase. And then she breathed in sharply, shook the thought off. She didn’t know why she’d done that. She shouldn’t have said all that. She needed to tone it down. Now. _Stupid, stupid_ – Regina didn’t need to hear her crap, she was obviously making her uncomfortable, stupid. “Sorry. Shit. I –”

“Do not apologize,” Regina told her sharply. “Don’t.”

“Okay.” Emma swallowed, blinking and turning away. She breathed in, calmed herself. And then, weakly, hopefully: “So... Think I can try your gross healthy breakfast now?”

-0-

Regina wrapped her coat around her tighter, staring down at the hardwood floor beneath her feet as she lifted her hair from underneath the collar. Since this morning’s talk there had been a definitive shift in the air of the annex – or maybe just in her own perspective.

She’d gone through the motions, done her job for the rest of the day. But the whole time all that had been running through her head was Emma’s confession on repeat, the look on her face when she’d just – just for one second – stopped _damn_ internalising. Her knuckles had turned white on the arm of her wheelchair. And Regina had seen her. And she’d seen herself. And that had shaken her considerably. 

She tucked a wave of hair fastidiously behind her ear, hooking her bag over her wrist and narrowing her eyes back down the annex hallway before breathing in slowly and pushing out into the garden. And as she made her way out through the main house, Regina looked at the ground and thought of all the times in her life she’d lived her life for other people. All the times before Henry, all the times afterwards with Robin, all the times Mother – 

She was going to help Emma Swan. 

Regina felt her brow furrow slightly at the sudden thought. She knew immediately it was the kind of involuntary decision she couldn’t go back on. Aside from her son, she’d never really been in the business of helping people. To be perfectly honest, she’d never really been in the business of _people_. Not on a non-professional, human level. This was uncharted territory. 

But like she told Mary Margaret: she didn’t scare easily.


	5. The Normal Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words and support! I promise you, we are progressing. Slowly and surely. 
> 
> Emma might actually be about to leave her room today...

Regina did what she always did when she was uncertain – she planned.

By the time she was walking Henry to school before work the next day, she'd calculated her next move. It was like with work in Portland; whenever Regina didn't know what to do about a meeting or a pitch, she'd plan and plan and plan until she felt like she was back in control. To be perfectly honest that was probably an issue she needed to work through, but it made her feel safer.

Of course, she couldn't exactly make a spreadsheet about helping a disabled woman through her depression, but she could at least plan for the next few days.

Regina walked into the annex that morning with her shoulders back and her first simple idea firm in her mind. She didn't even have to worry about struggling to lure Emma out of her bed: it was a Wednesday, so she had to wake up early for the nurses' round. Not August today – one of the older women, the patronising aunt type – which meant Emma might not be in the best mood, but she couldn't have everything.

She turned her key in the lock, pushing through into the hallway with a hard determination thrumming through her. It put a strange kind of anticipation in her stomach: the juvenile fluttery kind she hadn't felt since she found out she was having Henry.

"Morning," Regina called briskly, opening the door to the annex's main room. She was eager to carry out the plan: tick everything off her list, one by one.

"Hey," Emma replied. Her voice was easy but distanced. She was sitting watching some breakfast show on TV, fingers dancing clumsily over the remote buttons without pressing anything. Regina noticed she did that sometimes: moved her fingers without purpose. Like she was making sure they still worked. Like she was making a point. "I already ate."

"Granny's?" Regina tried, raising an eyebrow.

A smile brushed over Emma's mouth. "Gross hospital toast."

"Marginally better," Regina allowed scathingly, mechanically stowing her bag and keys away in their usual spot. She glanced back at Emma: she was dressed, at least. She was so rarely in anything other than sweats it seemed too perfect to be a coincidence. Of course, her hair still looked like a birds nesting ground, but at least there was something. "I hope you're ready for some fresh air."

Emma's eyebrows drew together sharply, mouth curling into a form. "What?"

Regina almost smiled at the mix of horror and shock on her face. "I'm not wasting another day vacuuming a hallway that doesn't need to be vacuumed while you watch another obnoxious car film."

"Okay, you did not just insult Fast and Furious." Emma raised an eyebrow. "And also, you get _paid_ to vacuum that hallway."

"Technically I get paid to help you live." Regina reminded her. She swallowed, tightened her jaw, held the other woman's gaze. "If I let you waste another day I'm actually helping you self destruct."

Immediately, annoyance flared in Emma's green eyes, in the movement when she ducked her head. "Don't you start."

"I won't." Regina promised. "But you're coming for a walk with me and that's the end of it."

Emma opened her mouth to protest but she must have decided against it, because she didn't say anything for a while. Instead, she paused, breathed in slowly. When she met her gaze again, her eyes were bright and an almost-smile was quirking at the corners of her mouth. "Hot Single Mom Kidnaps Quadriplegic Loser – I can see the headline now. It's like Heidi on drugs."

"While that would absolutely make headline news in this foot-squared town –" Regina gave her a look. "You're not a loser. I mean, you do talk like a teenage boy in a fraternity –"

"You talk like a sixty year old!" Emma rebuffed indignantly.

"Well, some of us were raised properly." Regina replied airily. Emma started saying something and she cut her off quickly, not wanting to get distracted from her plan. "Anyway, we're going for a walk. I apologize but you don't really have a choice."

"Could run you over," Emma mused, shrugging as much as she could. "Just like, wheel over your feet really hard."

"You better not, these shoes cost a fortune." Regina muttered. She hadn't taken off her coat. "You want a jacket?"

"We're _seriously_ going for a walk?" Emma raised her eyebrows, green eyes unreadable. She looked surprised, yes, a little incredulous but not actively annoyed. Not really.

"Yes." Regina informed her.

" _Where?_ " Emma's voice rose, incredulous. "This town has like, two streets."

"Where do you want to go?" Regina asked simply, raising her head and meeting Emma's stare directly. She was particularly pleased with this part of the plan: she needed to get Emma focused on her own simple, everyday thoughts and feelings again. The normal things. She had to want things again, have opinions, preferences, likes, dislikes.

Emma opened her mouth, green eyes flickering over her. Regina could see the uncertainty written across her face; the surprise. "I –"

"Do _not_ say you don't mind," Regina warned. Her breath was caught in her throat for some reason. She felt excited. Almost happy, with this new plan. She was doing something.

"Okay..." Emma's fingers twitched on the chair. She cocked her head, blonde mess of hair tumbling across her shoulders. She really needed to do something about that hair. "Um... I guess going along the beach wouldn't be too horrible."

-0-

And that was how Emma found herself being pushed down main street towards the seafront for the first time in... She didn't even know. Her last excursion had been to the grocery store.

Above them, the Maine sky was reliably grey but dazzlingly bright: the air was fresh and thin, with a crispness that hinted at winter. Emma squinted towards the beach on the horizon, breeze blowing strands of blonde hair across her face. (Well. Some. Regina had asked if she wanted one of her many beanies, and she'd agreed, because she recognised the connotation there – her hair was a train wreck.)

She tried not to look at anyone. There were a only few people walking around, but Emma felt heat prickle up her neck every time they passed someone. She could feel them trying not to look at her.

One or two nodded _hello_ to Regina, who, as far as Emma could tell, ignored them.

"You're gonna have to be a lot friendlier if you wanna survive in this town," Emma told her, after one such encounter. They were halfway down main street. Inside Granny's, the lights were on. She could see the waitresses moving about.

Regina made an unimpressed noise to show what she thought of that. "I spent ten years living in the most depressed city in America. I think I can handle a town full of pensioners."

Emma stared down at her lap, smile curling inadvertently at the corners of her mouth. "You still haven't told me how you ended up here."

"No, I haven't." Regina agreed. Emma almost smiled again, then she realised and stopped. They were approaching the strip of path that snaked around from the beach and the docks to the forest now, the wind picking up by the shore.

Her wheelchair made a low rumbling sound against the concrete as Regina pushed her along the seafront. The ocean was calm and grey, spreading out to the horizon like glass, barely a different shade to the sky. Where the docks curved around a few yards to their left, boats rocked gently in their lots. The air was sharper, carrying the smell of salt and brine from the nearby canneries. Emma felt her brows draw together. She hadn't been round here for so long.

She didn't even know why she said she wanted to come here. Just the first place that came into her head, she guessed. And it was usually deserted. That helped, too. Emma listened to the gentle whisper of the sea, the gulls squawking overhead, she and Regina sinking into a companionable quiet. The wind teased blonde curls across her face. She still wouldn't let Regina cut it. Her fingers were cold. It wasn't completely terrible. It wasn't terrible at all, actually.

After a while, Regina drew her to a stop facing the sea, moving around to sit carefully on the bench beside her. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I guess not." Emma allowed begrudgingly. She breathed in the cold sea air, staring out over the flat grey water. Then she looked sideways at her, eyes narrowing slightly, trying to figure her out. "I still don't see the point in all this."

"The point is life." Regina told her without missing a beat. "The point is I wasted mine for – for a very long time." She paused. "I don't want you to waste yours."

"You don't even know me." Emma reminded her. "You don't even know what my life is like."

"I think I'm starting to," Regina said, voice soft and clear.

They sat there for a few minutes. Emma watched the sea and the ground and the woman beside her and the weirdest calm feeling spread over her chest like the still water of the ocean. Her throat and fingers were cold but her chest was warm, and she found herself thinking about the sea while she sat there, about how deep and infinite it was, about how there was a whole universe under that deceptively still calm skin. And just for a second, she found herself thinking about Regina in the same way.

Emma thought it was nice not to have to be happy for anyone, and it was nice not to just be. It was nice to just be with someone else. It was nice to just be with someone. She glanced absently over at the woman beside her and Emma caught a glimpse of something different in Regina's face, and for just a moment, she could have sworn she felt the same.

For some reason, that put a small smile on her face.

Maybe because of that, and maybe not, but by the time Regina wheeled her home, her heart felt more alive and competent than usual. It had started raining just as they got in, grey drops tapping against the windows.

Regina took her coat off and went to start cooking lunch. Emma debated getting out one of the audiobooks she hadn't bothered with since last year – maybe one of the Bourne ones – but that still didn't seem quite right. So, when Regina returned with a tray of soup (something, with the aid of another weird-looking invention, that she could eat by herself), instead of letting her fix on the attachments and go do laundry, Emma caught her eye. "Hey, Regina,"

Regina looked over at her, already in the doorway, hand on the wood.

Emma breathed in, and then her mouth opened and started speaking without her brain's knowledge or consent. "I just wanted to say thank you, actually. For taking me down the beach. Just for trying, I guess."

Regina nodded, eyebrows raised, smiling thinly. After a pause, she turned to look Emma in the eye. "We're going out again tomorrow, by the way."

" _Seriously?_ "

"Come on, Emma." Regina gave her a look. "It's not healthy for you to be shut up in here all day."

"Okay." Emma muttered begrudgingly. "I suppose it wasn't _completely_ horrible."

Regina flashed a quick smile, turning back to leave the room. The sunlight from the window caught on her dark hair, the folds of her silk blouse. Maybe the fresh sea air had completely fucked with her head but she didn't even think before she lifted her head higher and heard her own voice saying one word.

"Wait,"

Regina turned around, face inquisitive and expectant, hand lingering on the wood of the door. Emma opened her mouth, trying to think of something legitimate to say. She had not thought this through. "You wanna maybe... Stay and watch a movie with me?"


	6. New Perceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are progressing, everyone, I promise! This is the last chapter situated solely around Emma’s house! Wow, I know right? Baby steps. 
> 
> To everyone asking about him, Henry really did try to steal the show this chapter... 
> 
> And as always, big love to everyone reading and commenting! You really do make me smile.

It had been raining for two days straight. 

Regina tried to focus on chopping the onions into equal sizes, and not on the rain pattering against the kitchen window. The bad weather just reminded her of Portland, where a day without clouds was rare and precious. She did _not_ need to think about Portland. 

Pushing those thoughts away, she turned up the stove to put the onions on to sweat. Then she let herself lean against the kitchen side and take a moment. It was a Saturday, and she hadn’t been working, so she and Henry had taken most of the day to explore the town they’d not quite settled into yet, armed with umbrellas. They’d had lunch at that place Emma talked about – Granny’s – and then she’d bought him some comic books.

Storybrooke was as welcoming as any small town, but she doubted whether she’d ever get used to the lack of traffic. 

She pushed her hair back behind her ear, moving to boil the water for the pasta. In the den, she could hear Henry watching TV. He’d Skyped with Robin when they got in: Robin had promised to have him for a week or so near Christmas. 

Which would be good for Henry, but she worried herself sick on the days he walked home from school by himself. She honestly did not want to think what kind of state she’d be at him staying the other side of the country, even if it was in the house they used to share. Or at least cohabit. 

_Stop thinking about Robin!_

Regina huffed, reaching for a pepper and holding it in place on the chopping board. That was when her phone buzzed to life, vibrating on the kitchen side. 

_Oh, for the love of God_ \- Regina glanced distractedly over: the incoming call screen displayed the name of one Mary Margaret Nolan. Well, she had to take it. If something had happened – she wiped her hands on a dishcloth, turned the heat on the stove way down and swiped answer as quickly as she could. 

“Regina?”

“What is it?” Regina asked, desperate to get to the point – something she’d quickly learned Mary Margaret was not very good at. She heard the mayor sigh over the phone. In the background, she could just make out voices like people arguing. 

“I know this is horribly rude of me, but we really don’t know what else to do –” Mary Margaret rushed to explain. Her voice was getting progressively higher and more upset. “She got angry during her physio, it’s been a _really_ bad day and David’s been called into work and I have so much contract stuff to sort out but I don’t want to leave her alone, and I appreciate that you’re busy but –”

“I’ll be in as soon as I can.” Regina told her heavily. 

“Thank you, thank you so much, Regina, I am so sorry, I just –”

“It’s fine. I’ll be there.” Regina assured her briskly, letting the mayor manage another thank you before hanging up the phone. 

Sighing, Regina turned the stove off and covered the pasta with a saucepan lid, dropping her spoon into the sink and switching her phone back to messaging. She quickly began tapping out a hasty message asking if Kathryn could watch Henry for a few hours while she went to work. God, she wished she didn’t have to bother Kathryn. 

Not waiting for a reply, she moved back into the hallway, reaching for her coat and bag off their hooks and slinging them over her arm. “Henry?” Regina called, heart sinking. No answer. “Henry,” She sighed, pushing through into the den. 

Henry was sitting with his legs up on the sofa, reading one of his comics. _Captain America_. In the background, some talk show was playing on TV. He looked up when she walked in, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart, but I have to go into work.” Regina told him, something in her chest breaking a little. If there was a way she didn’t have to leave him... At least so suddenly. God. She sighed. “I’m so sorry but it sounds like they have a real situation over there. I’ve asked Kathryn if she can come sit with you until I get back.” She paused. “Henry... I really didn’t want to disappoint you again but I just can’t get out of this.”

Regina’s fingers twisted absently in the fabric of her shirt, over her stomach. She watched him carefully, trying to gauge some kind of reaction. After a while, Henry shrugged just shrugged his narrow shoulders. “That’s okay. It’s not like we had plans. And we were out together all day anyway.”

A rush of relief and love washed over her. She leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead, which he accepted without wiping it off like he would have a few months ago. Regina summoned a smile for him, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. “I promise you we can do whatever you want when I get back.”

A text buzzed through her phone. Regina rushed to pull her phone from her blazer pocket and open it. _Kathryn_. Her heart leapt at the name. _I’m so sorry Gi, I can’t make it. It’s Fred and I’s date night and he’s already paid for reservations. So sorry. x_

Henry must have seen her face fall. “It’s okay, Mom.” He shrugged casually, bright hazel eyes peering at her from over the top of his comic book. “I can just stay home by myself. You let me walk home by myself. Anyway, I’m nearly ten.”

“You’re barely nine,” Regina corrected him immediately. She paused, studying his earnest face. “You’re just going to have to come with me. Bring some comics, you can read in peace while I deal with... this. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Henry nodded earnestly. “I was just gonna read anyway.”

“Okay.” Regina allowed. 

She was still anxious that she was letting him down. She was still anxious she was letting him down by following through with the divorce. She wished she could just stop being anxious. Apparently bad mothering was a Mills family trait. She winced at her own thought. _That’s not fair and you know it._

Regina breathed in, shaking her head of the thoughts she didn’t want to deal with. “Okay. Get your coat on. I promise this won’t take long.”

-0-

“Emma –”

“Mom, I’m _fine_!” Emma heard the contradiction in the brittle snap of her voice. God, she wished she didn’t sound like that. “I don’t need you here, you can go do your work, I don’t care.”

“Emma, I’m not...”

“Mom, please,” Emma sighed, wincing slightly at her lap. She didn’t want to look at Mary Margaret right now. Looking at her would mean she’d have to see the worry and hurt in her eyes, the tremble in her hands. She just couldn’t deal with that right now. “Just go.”

“I don’t want...” Mary Margaret trailed off. “Regina’s coming over in a minute.”

Emma’s chest tightened at the thought, collapsing with guilt as well as anger. Regina didn’t need to deal with this. Regina didn’t need to be here and she didn’t need Regina to be – an accidental glance up at her mother made her cut her own thoughts off. “Okay. So you can go.”

She tapped her fingers faster against the arms of her wheelchair. Before, she’d have done a kickass workout to get it out of her system. Now she could barely get through physiotherapy without having a fucking breakdown, _Jesus_. Once the door had clicked shut behind her mother, Emma released the sigh she’d been holding all day. 

It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t like she’d _intended_ to flip out.

But the nurse was a patronising cow, and Emma hated her physio by principle alone: she couldn’t do anything and she’d never be able to so what was the point? All it did was remind her of everything – trapped. God, it made her feel trapped. Sewn into a cage of muscle and blood and bone. The only prison on earth with no exit, and she had a life sentence for a crime she didn’t commit. 

So of course she’d started shouting, pain ripping from her throat like tears she couldn’t cry, telling the nurse to stop, leave her alone, get the fuck out. And then Mary Margaret was upset, and she was crying which made Emma’s skin burn, wrapped too tight around her bones, guilt like an itch she could never scratch crawling through her veins. 

And then her dad was trying _not_ to cry because he was more similar to Emma than either of them would admit, and his knuckles were turning white and Emma wished she could think something other than _at least his can_. 

She shouldn’t have let herself get so mad.

It was selfish. Emma was essentially a ball of selfish, destructive fury. Nobody said it but that’s what they were all thinking. Even her therapists were too polite to say so back when she put up with them. As if she hadn’t put her parents through enough... 

Her throat constricted around the lump lodged there. Emma swallowed hard, shaking an errant curl of hair from her face and frowning down at the white skin inside her wrists. Mary Margaret and David Nolan had adopted her when she was fourteen. They’d been fostering her for a year and half before they all signed the papers. 

She and David had adjusted fine, but she knew Mary Margaret always doubted herself and everything, knew she still had issues. They’d had a bunch of miscarriages or something, before they met her. It had taken her years to comfortably call them _mom_ and _dad_ , and she’d never changed her name to _Nolan_ and that was hard enough on the mayor. After the accident, all that had just been... amplified.

She breathed in. She breathed out carefully. Emma could feel herself calming down, pulse slowing to normal in her veins. Leaning her head back against the wheelchair, she closed her eyes for a second, taking refuge in the darkness and the sound of her blood in her ears. She’d apologize to the nurse next time she saw her – if she ever came back. She wished she could make dinner tonight as a peace offering. That’s what she’d have done before.

Emma loved her parents with all her heart. It was just... Love wasn’t always easy. 

“Emma?” 

Emma’s head jerked up at the familiar voice. She could hear the familiar click of heels against the hallway floor, and then the door was twisting open and Regina was walking inside, anxiously smoothing back her hair. 

Immediately, her gaze flickered up to the brunette’s expression. Her brow was twisted into a frown, eyes distracted and hard, lips parted. Her fingers were tense and jumpy. She looked worried. She looked stressed. She looked like what she was: a single mom working a job she was way over-qualified for to pay for her kid’s best chance. It put that weird feeling in Emma’s chest again. She couldn’t seem to look away – until Regina turned around and started talking in a hushed, soft voice. And not to her. 

Following Regina into the room was a pale scrap of a kid with an X-Men backpack and eyes too big for his face. 

Emma stared between the two of them. 

“Emma, this is Henry.” Regina introduced briskly, fingers hastily undoing her black trench coat. Her voice was tense, strained. “I couldn’t get a sitter on such short notice, but I promise he won’t be any trouble.”

“I... Okay,” Emma managed, somehow. Henry was looking up at his mom with huge eyes, brown hair sticking up at the back. His backpack had a picture of Wolverine on it. 

She watched, unable to look away as Regina turned back to her son, leaning down to put a hand on his skinny shoulder while she spoke to him. Emma couldn’t hear the words, but her voice was so soft and warm and honest, so direct and caring, so _different_ and yet so the same it tugged at something inside her chest. Even her face, her eyes, the line of her mouth and jaw were soft, every inch of her was completely engaged with her kid. 

Emma stared, entranced. 

Regina was looking Henry directly in the eye, wave of dark hair falling against her cheek, catching the light from the window. It struck her dark hair and shone off her shirt, the pretty Rolex watch on her wrist. She looked worried and loving and beautiful and real and human and something heavy shifted in Emma’s chest as she realised her a hundred things at once.

_This_ was Regina. 

She was looking at _Regina_ , sans-walls. Every guard down. And it wasn’t meant for her, but Emma could still see it, objectively, like looking at the gardenias blossom through the window. 

While she spoke to her son, and her son spoke back to her, Emma slowly began to see her for what she was. A mother, doing everything she could for her kid to have a shot. A human being, with struggles and hopes and doubts.

Gradually, Emma felt the faintest whisper of a smile creep over her lips.

By the time Regina had Henry settled in the chair in the corner with a comic book and hurried to the kitchen, it had evolved into the start of a grin. She didn’t follow it through, but it was the closest she’d come in nearly two years. 

It was dizzying – she was still reeling. Maybe that was why, instead of sitting and sighing and drumming her fingers in awkward silence, Emma spun her chair to face the kid and peered at the cover of his comic book. Maybe that was why she looked over at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Captain America, huh?”

“Yup.” Henry nodded, holding up the comic book clearer so she could see. “He’s my favourite Avenger.”

“Wow,” Emma managed to feign the right enthusiasm. If she didn’t know herself better, she’d say she did sound excited. “I used to read them all the time when I was kid. But I always liked Hawkeye best.” And Black Widow. The latter for very different reasons. 

“Seriously?” Henry squinted and cocked his head slightly and for some reason that motion was so Regina Emma nearly burst out laughing. “Hawkeye is _okay_ , but Captain America is the team’s leader. He’s the one that gets the best stories.”

“I guess.” Emma allowed. “Iron Man’s pretty cool too, though.”

“He’s my third favourite.” Henry explained, as if he was discussing the most serious matter on earth. “It goes Captain America, Vision, Iron Man...”

“Right,” Emma nodded towards his backpack, slumped at his feet, humouring the seriousness in his small face. “So who’s your favourite X-Man?” 

“I don’t know,” Henry said, squinting. “Maybe Cyclops. Or Professor X.”

“I’m seeing a trend here,” Emma realised. “You like the team leaders?”

“Yeah!” Henry enthused. “They’re the biggest heroes, cause they have to help all the other heroes as well as the normal people.” He paused, and then declared, “I wanna be like that, someday.”

Emma felt a smile forming on her lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Definitely. Like my mom. She’s one of those heroes.” Henry told her, with such conviction the words shot straight into Emma’s chest like arrows. He paused, and then frowned, chewing on his lip the same way Regina did. “Except she’s kind of _too much_ like a hero. I think she sometimes forgets she needs help sometimes, too. She needs a hero sometimes, too.” 

“Yeah,” Emma heard herself saying, voice hoarse and small in her own ears. 

She swallowed and stared down at her knees, kind of in shock. She hadn’t thought that before but now it seemed to make perfect sense, as she reconciled what he’d said with all the time she’d spent around Regina. His description fitted heartbreakingly well. 

Emma stared, watching as this kid, who seemed to have no idea of the effect he’d just made, perked up in his seat, wide eyes suddenly bright. A goofy grin spread wide over his mouth. “Maybe you could be her hero!”

“Kid,” Her brows knitted into a frown, mouth open as she searched for the right words. “I don’t think I’m in any place to be a hero.”

“That’s what all the good ones think!” Henry exclaimed. His voice was high and excited now. “You’re already like, part cyborg!” He gestured to her chair.

Emma nearly burst out laughing. It was a weird sensation. 

“Part cyborg,” She repeated, shaking her head. “I can deal with that.”

“Right?” Henry enthused. “And you’re kinda like Professor X, too! Professor X is actually probably my favourite X-Men character now. _Then_ Cyclops, then Storm, then Wolverine...”

Before she had a chance to think about what she was doing, she was nodding and discussing superheroes with a skinny little nine year old, anger almost forgotten. Well, never forgotten, but kinda... faded. She was getting that feeling that she got when Regina had taken her along the beachfront, that quiet calm feeling that spread from her chest to her toes. 

They were in the middle of a loud debate over X-Men characters versus Avengers characters when Regina walked back in, holding a tray of food. Emma and Henry both stopped talking abruptly, turning and staring. The sheer confusion on her face was brilliant. 

“What is happening here?” Regina asked, brows slightly drawn together, staring between the two of them.

Emma opened her mouth, but Henry swooped in and saved them. “Superhero talk. You wouldn’t get it.” He sounded like such a hipster for a tiny nerdy kid, Emma struggled to stop herself from snorting. “Hey, where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, last room on the left.” Emma offered helpfully. 

“Thanks!” Henry jumped up from his chair, laying his comic carefully on the seat before darting around his mother. His footsteps tapped lightly against the hallway floor.

“When your mother told me to drop everything and come over this wasn’t quite what I pictured.” Regina told her, mouth tightening as she leaned down to fix the tray to Emma’s wheelchair.

Emma looked up at her, catching her eye. Regina paused her ministrations, looking back at her with her dark hair like a curtain around them. “What where you picturing?” Emma asked, watching the brunette finish fixing the attachment. 

“I don’t know.” Regina confessed, squinting slightly, just like Henry had earlier. “I expected something a bit more... Angry.”

“Yeah,” Emma shrugged, fighting the smile playing over her lips. “Turns out your kid is a good remedy for that.”

“I see.” Regina said, turning to draw up a chair beside her to help her eat. “I’m being replaced by my nine year old son already.”

“Kid likes Marvel,” Emma shrugged again. “What can I say?”

Regina gave her a look as she sat down, legs crossing. The stress was beginning to slowly fade from her face. Had she got more beautiful since yesterday? Seeing her with Henry had changed everything about her. Or maybe it had just amplified what was already there, hiding beneath the surface. It was like she’d been blurry and now she could see her in high definition. 

“Seriously.” Regina’s voice was coaxing, honest. She cocked her head slightly, dark eyes seeking hers. “You want to tell me what happened?”  
Emma sighed, leaning her head against the back of the chair. “I got frustrated and I snapped. Happens sometimes.” She pointedly avoided her carer’s stare, swallowing hard. She just wanted to forget the whole thing. “It just upsets my mom.”

“You sure you’re okay now?” Regina asked, deliberately, directly. Her own stress had appeared to have been put aside. _Too much of a hero_ , Emma thought. 

“I’m never sure, to be honest,” Emma confessed. Her gaze flickered up to meet hers. “But yeah. I think I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad.”

“Because you don’t have stay long?”

“No,” Regina shrugged. “I’m glad because I’m glad.”

“Oh,” Emma blinked. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”


	7. Not Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. 
> 
> Before I say anything else, I just want to address something that practically every one of you has said to me, and that’s when Regina is going to open up/work through her anxiety and fears. It is coming, I promise! However, it’s going to take some time.
> 
> I’ve deliberately made Regina the way she is because I wanted this to be about these two women helping each other, not just one or the other. But I am really trying to stay grounded and true to my own experience with these issues, and also to the characters. Regina’s a tough nut to crack. She will, and when she does it will be a major part of the storyline, with several chapters devoted to doing it right. And I do mean that. I’m not Adam and Eddy. 
> 
> Also, I know this chapter is kind of short but the next couple will make up for it. Big thanks to every one of you reading and commenting and following and making me smile. Love you.

“So.” Regina buried her hands in the pockets of her coat as she walked. She hadn’t been allowed to hold Henry’s hand in public for six months. “What are you making today?”

“Birdhouses.” Henry told her cheerfully, shifting his backpack straps on his narrow shoulders. “We’re just starting to make them today. I think we get to keep them when we’re done, so we could put ours in the tree in the garden. I think I’d like to live there if I was a bird.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Regina agreed. She forced herself to smile and nod back at a passing stranger. Emma was right – this town was far too friendly. “We could buy some bird feeders to go with it.”

“Yeah!” Henry nodded enthusiastically. “Then we’d have loads of birds. That would be so cool.”

“It would.” Regina smiled, heart flooding with warmth and gratitude that she had a wonderful son who thought that housing ‘loads of birds’ was the epitome of cool. She breathed in, seeing the school gates rising up from the path a few feet ahead. “Listen. I have to take Emma to the hospital today. I should be back in time to pick you up but if not, use your key and Aunt Kathryn will be in to check on you, okay? I’ll call you.”

“Okay. But you should stop worrying so much.” Henry told her, and before Regina could protest, he kept on talking, diving headfirst into the next random topic as only nine-year-olds could. “Emma’s weird. I like her.”

“She’s not _weird_ ,” Regina told him. _She just needs a haircut_. “That’s not a nice thing to call people.”

“I know, but I mean it in a nice way.” Henry assured her cheerily. “She’s a cyborg, _and_ she likes Hawkeye.” 

“Is that one of the X-Men?” Regina tried, thinking back to the DVDs lined carefully in the cabinet under the TV. 

“No!” Henry exclaimed, eyebrows drawing together. “He’s one of the _Avengers_ , Mom.”

“Right,” Regina nodded. At least she’d got the superhero part right. She stopped outside the school gates, flipping her hair behind her shoulder – it was at the most awkward length now – and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead, despite his wriggling protests. “Now go on. You go make us a birdhouse.”

“I will.” Henry assured her seriously, before catching the eye of a boy waiting inside the gate, who waved at him. He waved back and hurried towards him. Regina stood in the light grey air and watched Henry greet his friends and disappear into the elementary school building. 

Once she’d heard the bell ring, she turned back toward the mayor’s house and began walking to work. She and Henry were beginning to expertly navigate the neat grey streets of Storybrooke, which wasn’t hard considering the size of the town. It was still very new and different, but Henry had settled in with ease and that was all Regina cared about. 

As she walked, heels clicking against the pavement, Regina ran through her plan in her head. 

Since the day she’d taken her to the beach, things had been getting better, physiotherapy mishap aside. Regina still wasn’t sure what happened that day. Mary Margaret had sounded so distraught on the phone, and Emma’s eyes had been red, but after a few minutes she’d seemed fine. A little dazed by something, but not a furious wreck. Maybe she was just restraining herself for Henry’s sake.

With winter settling in around the town, there were going to be more opportunities for her plan. Storybrooke was exactly the kind of town that made a mountain of every molehill. Already, she’d had two flyers through her door about different Christmas fairs and markets, and a woman trying to sell her festive candles (who she’d shut the door on. It was November and Regina Mills did not suffer fools gladly). 

So she could take Emma to those, and to the lighting of the Christmas tree in the town square later on, in December. There had to be some New Years celebrations as well, when that eventually rolled around – that would convey a nice message to the quadriplegic woman. 

But for today, it was just Emma’s latest check up at the general hospital. 

Regina reached the mayor’s house quickly and let herself in through the back, making her way through to the annex. It was already unlocked when she tried the door, so she slipped in quietly and made her way towards the low buzz of the radio. 

“Morning,” She called, turning the door into Emma’s room. 

“Hey,” Emma looked up when she came in, not exactly smiling, but not as deadpan as she’d been the first few days. Just that sent a thrill through Regina’s stomach. 

“You ready for your check up?” She asked expectantly. 

Emma raised an eyebrow and half-rolled her eyes, huffing and blowing the tangled blonde curls back from her face “Let’s just get this done, okay?” She paused, apparently psyching herself up and thinking of something else. “By the way, I wanna go Christmas shopping tomorrow, so you can just get here at normal time but we can go out around twelve.”

“You want –” Regina blinked at her. “You _want_ to go?”

“Yeah, I have to get my mom something.” Emma nodded. Regina kept staring at her, lips parted, almost curling into a smile. She shrugged. “What?”

“Nothing.” Regina smiled briefly, eyes never leaving hers. “I’m just glad you care.”

Triumph building, Regina moved around the back of the chair to take the handles. Emma was already dressed in actual clothes and not sweatpants for a change, which was a bonus that just added to the sense of victory that was slowly building in her. 

So she wheeled her round to the front of the house, the two of them settling into the light, companionable silence that seemed to be growing more and more frequently through the space between them. 

-0-

“I don’t think we’ve met before. My name is Victor Whale, I’ve been one of Emma’s specialists for the past year.”

Emma sat back in her chair, awkwardly skating her fingertips over the armrest. She watched as Regina leaned over the doctor’s desk to shake his hand, before sitting back in the blue hospital chair beside Emma, brushing the dark hair back over her shoulders. “Regina Mills.” She replied. “Emma’s carer.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you but we should get to the point.” Dr Whale nodded, opening up one of the files from his desk. Overhead, the fluorescent lights spilled harsh yellow light over the room. It stung Emma’s eyes. Whale glanced over the papers inside. “This all looks absolutely fine. No further muscle or nerve deterioration.” 

“Great.” Emma muttered. Regina shot her a look. She rolled her eyes and then repeated, more enthusiastically, “Really, great.”

“So that’s good news, correct?” Regina pressed. Emma glanced over her. She was sitting with her spine poker-straight in her chair, hands folded over her knee. Her eyes never left the doctor for a second. 

“It’s good, but if I’m being honest, Miss Mills, it’s not exactly news.” Whale explained. “She’s stable. Exactly the same as she’s been for twelve months. We’ll still run the other tests, continue these monthly check ups, but any change is... Highly unlikely, to say the least.”

Emma sighed, dropping her head back against the chair. “I’m the same as I always am.”

“Yes. It could be a whole lot worse,” Whale reminded her. Then he reached for a sheet of paper the other side of his desk, picking up a ballpoint pen and scribbling something down. “I’ve signed you for another course of anti-spasm pills, and some more NSAIDs, just in case you need them.” He looked up, handing the prescription across the desk to Regina. “You can collect them from the pharmacy on the second floor.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” Regina forced a smile – Emma could tell that she forced it – and folded the prescription carefully inside her purse. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Emma made herself say, more for Regina’s sake than for hers or Whale’s. 

And then Regina stood up sharply, shook hands with Whale again, for some reason, and stepped around the back of her chair to push her out into the hospital corridor. The wheels whirred against the polished linoleum. 

“You were weirdly nice back there,” Emma said, looking at the posters of cats _hanging in there_ and STD symptoms (not on the same poster, thank god) while Regina wheeled her back to the elevators. She hated hospitals. The air was sharp and antiseptic, the atmosphere low, the fluorescent lights too fake and bright. Everything smelled too clean.

“I was professional, there’s a difference,” Regina corrected. “Anyway, someone had to make up for you. Not a fan of men who dye their hair the same colour as their skin?” 

Emma snorted lightly. That was another thing she’d discovered the past few days – since she’d seen her with Henry had it was like a veil had lifted, she’d been finding these little quirks like pieces of gold – Regina was funny. Not the swearing, slapstick brand of funny Emma used to like. But she had a dry, bracing king of sarcasm that was hard not to enjoy. Particularly when you’d been as bitter for as long as Emma Swan. 

“You got me,” Emma joked half-heartedly. “He’s like, my least favourite doctor.”

“Oh, you have favourites now?” Regina cocked a perfect eyebrow, drawing Emma to a stop so she could press the elevator button. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to arrive.

“Yeah,” Emma told her as she pushed her through the opening elevator doors. “I’m here for eight hours some days, I gotta do something.”

Regina didn’t reply, just stood as the elevator took them down to the second floor. It left her words hanging dejectedly in the air for a few minutes, until they seemed miserable and pointless like everything she said. Emma wished she could see her face. 

They reached the pharmacy pretty quickly and put her prescription into the queue, and Regina wheeled her through the antiseptic-smelling waiting room, sitting down beside her. They sat in silence for a few moments, waiting. 

Emma found herself sneaking glances at Regina out of boredom or interest. She was staring at the opposite wall, jaw tight. Her hands were folded in her lap, and they kept moving. Her gaze flickered down to them and then back up. Emma glanced away and down at the floor before she caught her looking. 

With every passing minute, the clock on the wall seemed to tick louder. Emma stretched her fingers against the armrests, glancing absently at the TV every now and again. It was on a shopping channel. She was used to this – waiting around, being bored.  
Regina, apparently, not so much. 

The brunette stood up sharply from her chair, taking a few clicking steps staring around the room. Emma frowned, glancing up at her. Because she didn’t look bored. She looked upset. Her brown eyes were shining and hard, her lips were pursed into a tight line, brow furrowed, calves tensed, arms folded tightly. She ran a hand through her hair.

“Hey, hey,” Emma’s heart seemed to tighten; she couldn’t tear her eyes from the other woman. Worry jumped in her heart and creased her brow. “You okay?”

“I just –” Regina turned sharply away, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her jaw was clenched, defensive. “I don’t like hospitals.”

Emma nodded understandingly, although she didn’t believe that was why she was upset for one second. She might have been pretty much completely detached from the human race but she wasn’t stupid; she was kind of becoming tuned in to the subtle hints and tics of the one person she’d accidently let spent every day around her. Well, she didn’t really _let_ her. It just happened. 

“Well it won’t be much longer,” Emma told her, half-shrugging. “We’ll just get the meds and go.”

Regina pursed her lips and nodded. She nodded again, before turning her dark gaze back to her. She swallowed; Emma watched her throat bob and contract. “Have you really spent all day here before?”

“Yeah,” Emma shrugged as best as she could. “But it’s not a big deal. It’s not like I have anything better to do. That was more at the start of all this anyway.” She paused, tilting her head and trying to gauge the brunette’s response. “Regina, seriously. What’s up?”

“It’s not fair!” Regina said suddenly. Her voice had risen with the colour in her cheeks. “It’s _not fair_.”

“What?” Emma asked softly, feeling a slight frown, mouth downturned. “Your job?”

“Your life!” Regina exclaimed. _Oh_ , Emma thought, gaze flickering over the other woman. Regina was standing stiffly, mouth a tight line. “And I know you don’t want to be pitied and I’m _not_ pitying you, I’m not pitying anyone. It’s just not fair.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just – what have I ever done to deserve to be up and walking around like this when you’re... What have you ever done to –” She shook her head. “Nothing. _Nothing_. Neither of us did anything for our lot in life. We just _got it_. And it’s not fair.”

Regina dropped elegantly into the chair beside her. She shook her head, shining dark eyes trained on the polished linoleum, hand flying to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t...” A shaky breath left her lungs slowly. It was the least composed she’d ever seen her. And maybe the most honest.

“Shh, hey, hey,” Emma heard herself say, gently, urgently. 

And then, all of a sudden she was feeling more than she’d felt for two and a half years. Well, she was feeling one thing, really, but she was feeling it harder than she’d felt anything for a long time: she wanted to touch her. Suddenly, _achingly_ wanted to put a comforting hand on Regina’s arm or the small of her back or maybe just find out what her hair would feel like between her fingers. 

Regina was still sitting beside her, jaw clenched tight, eyes huge and shining, emotion written across her face in a way Emma had never seen before. It made her stomach knot and her chest tighten and her heart and mind flash with an unfamiliar feeling. Almost protectiveness.

She wanted to be able to touch her. 

_Well_ , she thought, frowning as she realised. _That’s new._


	8. Breaking Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I apologise for not posting yesterday, but as they say, when the sun's out in England, drop everything and go to the beach. I’m also going on holiday in a week, but I promise I will find time to post another chapter before I go, and the next chapter will be a day or two late at most. 
> 
> Also, I promise Emma and Henry are going to have some more bonding very soon!
> 
> But for now... Leaving the house? Again? What is this? As always, thank you to everyone supporting and spreading the NGU love!

The bell above the jewellery store door chimed as Regina pushed it open. She had to awkwardly hold it with her shoulder to wheel Emma through. 

Inside, the air was thick and musty and smelled like window cleaner, but the wooden shelves and glass cabinets were stocked with fine chains of silver and gold, ornate charms, glinting gemstones all the colours of the rainbow set into a dozen different metals. Regina pushed Emma into room, their usual sound of rumbling wheels and clicking heels muffled by the carpet. She breathed in.

“So,” Regina asked, squinting around the shelves. “What exactly are we looking for?”

Beneath the mess of blonde hair, she saw Emma’s shoulders half-shrug. “Something good.” She frowned. “You can let go and look round if you want, I’ll power this monster by myself.”

“As you insist,” Regina let go of the wheelchair handles, folding her arms over the chest of her blouse and taking a few steps closer to one of the display cases. “What do you think your mother would want?”

“An apology, probably,” Emma muttered, so low under her breath Regina almost didn’t hear. “Or a different daughter.”

Regina knew she wasn’t supposed to have heard, so she bit her lip instead of saying something. The words burrowed into her chest anyway, twisting painfully. She knew that feeling. She’d been there her whole life. She frowned. Thoughts about her mother kept popping up lately. They were like land mines, buried everywhere. She pushed the latest away before it could explode. 

Emma pressed one of the wheelchair buttons, going over to peer through the glass of another cabinet. The chair made a mechanical whirring noise as it moved. Regina glanced at her, watching the slight furrow between her brows. The air suddenly felt too thick. She should change the subject. Lighten the mood. Today was supposed to be a cause for celebration after all, Emma asking to do things again. 

Regina cleared her throat. “You must know something. Or are you really so bad at paying attention?” 

“No, I’m just terrible at presents.” Emma admitted honestly. “I’m pretty sure my last girlfriend dumped me cause I got her a box of Nerds for Valentines Day.”

Regina made an incredulous noise in the back of her throat. “I try to be understanding, Emma, I really do, but I do not blame her.” 

She made a mental note that Emma had said _girlfriend_ instead of _boyfriend_. She’d suspected, but she made a point of remembering anyway, to avoid any awkward mishaps in the future. 

“Nerds are a great gift!” Emma protested. Almost enthusiastic. It spurred Regina’s plan on. _Almost_. “They’re cute, they’re fun. They were her second favourite candy...”

“Not even her favourite.” Regina raised her eyebrows, glancing over a rack of cheap birthstone key chains. “You monster.” 

“Her favourite was, like, Swedish!” Emma muttered defensively. “It was really hard to find.”

“Okay,” Regina muttered, faux-unimpressed. She nearly had a fight a smile at the louder, enthused tone of voice the blonde had used. Every day she seemed to say another word like that, instead of the frustrating low monotone she seemed to exclusively use when Regina had first started.

She brushed her fingers absently over the glass of one case and tried to see past her own reflection. The connotations in the way Emma had said _last girlfriend_ , as if there just couldn’t be any more were stuck in her head. Her eyes narrowed at the thought. _Dear god_. Why did every one of their conversations leave her wanting to change the subject? 

“What about a bracelet?” Regina suggested. “You could get one those Pandora ones with the charms. Perhaps your father could buy her a charm to go on it. That way you’d be involving everyone.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Emma mumbled. The whirr of the chair kept on, filling the deserted little shop.

They both nodded _good afternoon_ and declined help from the store clerk who came out from the back, which was an improvement, she supposed. A few weeks ago Emma would have left all social interaction to her. The store was clearly the family-owned, local, non-commercial brand that lined Storybrooke’s streets. Over a month and Regina had yet to see a brand name. She wasn’t sure if that was uplifting or depressing.

She was scanning the dusty display shelf in the corner when the earrings caught her eye. Twin garnets, winking from a cushioned half-box. Gilt. Vintage. Regina’s gaze flickered over them once before she remembered – she felt her brow knit slightly, reaching to carefully pick the box up.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, suddenly beside her. She really was getting too used to the whirr of the wheelchair. Her green eyes were genuinely inquisitive, head tilted slightly to peer at the box in Regina’s hands.

“Oh, it’s just – My mother used to have a pair of earrings like this.” Regina said softly, staring down at them. “They belonged to my grandmother, I think, before she died.” 

Cora had never been friendly with her parents. Regina knew their relationship had always been strained, knew her grandfather only by the phrase _that old drunk_ – and once Cora was married she considered them below her station.  
Regina never met either of them, but she went to her grandmother’s funeral. She couldn’t have been more than ten, but she remembered sitting on an uncomfortable pew listening to her mother complain under her breath. The earrings were all Cora had been left: she wore them once and they were never seen again. 

“Why don’t you buy them?” Emma suggested suddenly. “They’d suit you.”

“Oh, no.” Regina set the box carefully down where it came from. “I’m not here for me.”

“Okay.” Emma said quietly, after a while. 

As it turned out, she did end up buying one of the Pandora bracelets, and three charms: a snowflake, an apple, and a white tulip. Emma said she wanted a snowdrop, but they didn’t have any. Regina didn’t tell her that tulips symbolised new beginnings. She didn’t want to put her off. 

-0-

It started raining the second they left the jewellery store. 

Thin grey streaks of water tapping against the tarmac of the road and speckling the pavement. For some reason, Emma felt a smile curling at the corners of her mouth, and for the first time in years, it seemed to reach inside her chest. She really was pleased with her mom’s present. A raindrop landed on her cheek, and another on the back of her hand.

Regina muttered damn under her breath, and dug a folding black umbrella from her bag. Emma heard it pop open, but the moment Regina repositioned it to cover both of them, she shook her head. “No thanks,” Emma told her. “I think I’m good.”

“It’s pouring!” Regina protested, not moving the umbrella an inch. 

“Exactly,” Emma let the smile take hold, genuinely, incredulously. She was more aware of her heart beating defiantly in her chest than usual. “I haven’t felt the rain on me for weeks.”

Regina didn’t say anything for a while, so Emma focused on pointedly pressing the button on the chair, wheeling herself out onto the pavement. Already, tumultuous puddles gathered at the sides of the road like discarded coins, running like rivers into street drains. She hadn’t felt the rain on her for weeks. Hadn’t smelled that special rain-smell or seen the shine off the street as water exploded against tarmac, felt the cold drops tapping at her skin. 

“You’re crazy.” Regina said, but she didn’t sound upset, and she didn’t stop her. She just hurried after her, sheltering under her umbrella. The rain ran off the black fabric in rivulets, dripping against the floor around her heels.

“You sound just like my therapists!” Emma joked over her shoulder. It was closest she’d ever seen Regina come to laughing. 

By the time they reached the annex, she was soaked, but it stopped raining when Emma let Regina cut her hair.  
_Like it knew._

Regina closed her dripping umbrella as the annex door clicked shut behind them, shaking it out before wheeling Emma back into her room, where she’d started unbuttoning her coat and promptly asked if she wanted her to get a blow dryer and fix her hair for her. 

Emma was breathless from the rain and the feeling of not being entirely miserable. Her hair was, admittedly, hanging in ropy dripping curls over her shoulders, clinging to the damp skin of her neck. And she thought back over all the times Regina had made comments about the state of it, over the ugly shapeless mass it had become since the accident and wondered why she’d let it get like that. 

So she conjured up a lopsided smile and said, “You can cut it if you want.”

Regina turned around sharply from where she’d been hanging her coat, brown eyes were bright. A small slow smile spread across her lips. “Well finally.”

She burst into action immediately, fetching and arranging an arsenal of combs and scissors. Emma watched her, amused and intrigued. She looked almost triumphant. She looked focused. She looked like someone who’d won something. It made something in Emma’s chest dance – she was pretty sure this was how Regina must have looked as a little girl. _Now those are pictures I’d want to see._

That was how Emma found herself sitting in her chair in front of the huge mirror in the bathroom, avoiding her reflection. She hadn’t really touched her hair since the accident, let alone kept up all the trimming and layering, and it had grown into an unattractive, shapeless lump. It was actually quite an accurate metaphor for the rest of her life, but one thing at a time.

Emma stretched her neck awkwardly against the chair. She could hear Regina moving around behind her, arranging everything. “So have you, um, done this before?” Emma asked, brows drawing together. 

“I cut Henry’s hair.” Regina informed her lightly. “And I used to do my hu – my ex-husband’s. Before he discovered Supercuts.”

Reassured, Emma sat and tried to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. Her only other option was to look at Regina. She watched the brunette moving carefully and gracefully in the mirror, her own dark hair shining as it swung over her shoulders. Looking at Regina was kind of distracting and hard to stop, but at least it chased all thoughts of her own dark shadows and pale skin from her mind. 

Then Regina touched her and her heart jolted. It was the softest touch, barely there: just gentle fingers holding a lock of her hair to comb. Emma’s whole body tensed from the second it happened. Her mouth was suddenly dry. _Crap_ , she thought, heat crawling up her neck as Regina carefully combed through her hair, _the curse of the Pretty Lady Carer returns_. 

Emma’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. She forced herself to breathe in and out properly like a real person, clenching her jaw and staring rigidly into the mirror while Regina combed her hair. It didn’t really help. 

Her wide eyes tracked the brunette as she worked, watching her calm, downturned face. Once, the back of her hand brushed Emma’s neck and it felt like an electric shock. Were smoke to rise from her skin and an imprint left there forever, she wouldn’t have been surprised. It was better when Regina reached for the layering scissors and started snipping away, but only marginally. 

_What the fuck was that?_ Emma’s heart was still racing, staring in the mirror at the other woman as she fastidiously trimmed the dead ends off her hair. _What the fuck, Emma?_ This was so not a normal response. She didn’t see anyone else having an aneurism because an attractive woman cut their hair. 

God, she needed help. 

It calmed down pretty quickly, thank god, and Emma let her stare bore into the mirror without seeing anything. She thought everything was back to normal until Regina ran her fingers gently through the freshly-cut locks and announced that she needed to see if it was even. That, apparently, involved pulling Emma’s chair back enough to walk around to face her.

Regina leaned down, closer to her and slowly, almost tentatively raised her soft hands to either side of Emma’s face. A wave of floral perfume hit her skin. Brown eyes met Emma’s green for a second, before flitting away. Regina glanced distractedly away, hastily running her fingers through the new layers either side of Emma’s face and stepping back abruptly. 

“There.” Regina announced, voice smaller than usual as she stepped out of the way of the mirror. “You’re all done.”

“Thanks,” Emma managed, still reeling with the echo of Regina’s fingers against her scalp. Her own voice sounded rough and harsh in her throat. 

“What do you think?” Regina asked insistently, slender hands twisting together in front of her stomach. 

She had to look in the mirror. Emma had to look at herself now, whether she liked it or not. For the past year, just the thought of her reflection had her chest tightening and her skin itching and her head aching. Seeing herself slumped in the chair, pale, tired, angry – it gave her back the useless feeling every damn time. 

But this was for Regina. So she swallowed around the lump in her throat, clenched her jaw and lifted her gaze to the mirror. 

She blinked, staring from the new layers around her chin to the clean, healthy ends hanging down over her ribcage. Her hair looked like hair again. Maybe that sounded dumb, but it looked like it had a purpose again. The shock of it almost, almost detracted from the sight of the chair, and her body. The sight of it almost made her feel like a whole person again. 

Emma forced a smile, nodding once, twice. “It’s really - good,” She told her honestly. “I like it.”

“Don’t thank me.” Regina met her eyes in the mirror. “This is my job, after all.”

And for some reason, that reminder made something in Emma’s chest _sink._


	9. Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hear the sound of angst? I do. But it’s alright, because I promise the next two chapters will more than make everything better! Plus, Henry and Emma might be doing a little more bonding very soon... 
> 
> On a more serious note, I'm going on holiday on Thursday so I won't be able to post next week. However, I'll be back the week after that at my usual time, Monday or Tuesday, promise!
> 
> Also, I know both this and the last few chapters have been mostly just Emma and Regina, around Emma's house but the next few are going to be more character stuff with other people and in other locations, promise.

So they found their routine. 

And slowly, slowly, Emma found herself going out for ‘walks’ ( _ironic_ ), for movies, for lunches. Grocery shopping, Christmas shopping – the most mundane, ordinary, boring list of things that all seemed inexplicably special with Regina. Or for Regina. Whatever. Regina was there, was what she was trying to say. 

It was nice. It was like that first day, by the sea, with the wind and the seagulls and the calmness spreading out from her chest.

Emma knew her parents were noticing. They were trying not to say anything, skirting around her as if they were afraid saying the wrong thing would scare her, send her scuttling back inside her shell. But it was nice to see them happier, even if it meant downplaying her renewed hair and the new wear on her favourite leather jacket. 

The first time it scared her was a Tuesday. It was cold. They were watching a movie.

Regina was wearing a grey turtleneck. It was the first time she’d seen her in something semi-relaxed. It was making her chest ache, for some reason. Emma hadn’t really been paying attention to the movie anyway, but she could tell Regina was: so somewhere along the line she just gave up on watching the actors on screen and turned to watch the expert one beside her instead.

Emma watched, hair heavy against her neck, studying Regina while she stared at the screen. Her profile was surrounded by the bright grey light spilling from the window, but it didn’t so much shadow her as it did illuminate her; picking out the dust in the air the same way it picked out the spokes of gold in her brown eyes, the scar above her lips, the shape of her nose and the shape of her eyelashes beneath expensive mascara. It was hard not to see that she was beautiful. 

It was hard, now Emma was seeing more and more. 

She didn’t know what was wrong with her before. She’d appreciated the thought of having a pretty lady carer, but she hadn’t thought about the reality. Or maybe Regina was just so pretty you physically couldn’t process it all at once: it had to creep up on you, piece by piece by piece. 

_God, I need to get out more._

Emma felt her brow furrow and tried to not seem like she was staring. Honestly though, she wasn’t staring because she was beautiful. She was staring because she was _fascinating_. 

She’d been watching humans objectively, like a scientist or an alien, for almost two years now. She’d studied her parents extensively. She’d seen Regina’s veneer almost every day, the polished picture of clipped words and impassive expressions, and she’d glimpsed the woman beneath it several times now. She’d seen her with her son and that had changed everything. Seeing her watch movies also happened to be pretty interesting. 

Regina would frown when she didn’t like something that was happening on-screen, purse her lips when a character did something stupid. And sometimes – and this was Emma’s favourite – when she was really into a scene, there would be a sharp intake of breath a little to her left. 

That’s not what scared her. All of that was good, she thought. Archie would have thought so: that was her noticing, focusing, thinking about things. No, what scared her was when Regina’s hand reached over of its own accord and threaded her fingers through hers. 

Emma damn near imploded.

Panicked, her stare whipped over to her carer’s, but Regina eyes were still glued to the screen. She was obviously more caught up in this boring film than Emma had given her credit for. She was watching intently, lips slightly parted. Her fingers shifted through Emma’s. 

Her fingers were soft and small and warm and Emma mustered all the strength she had to make her own clumsy fingers move as much as they could. Teeth gritted, heart racing, Emma managed to get her fingers curled ever so slightly around hers. It was the first time in years that the effort of moving what little she could felt worth it. 

Holding Regina’s hand was like holding a butterfly or a heartbeat; something complete and completely alive. It made her want to be careful, to make every one of her cells gentle and attentive. It made her heart feel softer than it had in a long time. 

And it scared the shit out of her. 

-0-

“Emma?” Regina called, glancing down the hallway as she slipped inside. She huffed irritably, balancing the glass pie dish in her arms while she closed the annex door behind her. No answer. She sighed, flipping her hair back from her face and striding down towards the door to Emma’s room. They were past knocking now. 

When she stepped inside, still holding the dish in her hands, Emma glanced up sharply from where she’d been listening to one of her audiobooks, eyebrows drawing together. “The hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to know I’m appreciated,” Regina deadpanned. She leaned over to place the dish on the side of the dresser, leaning against the piece of furniture. The curtains were still open. Beyond the window, a brooding tangerine sunset raged on amongst the clouds. What was the time now? God, she needed to stop worrying.

“Seriously, everything okay?” Emma tilted her head, eyes seeking hers. “Where’s Henry?”

“Sleepover.” Regina muttered darkly. “Don’t ask, I’m still not okay with it.” She paused, gesturing to the dish. “I’m not stopping this late, I just came to drop this off. It’s an apple pie. The elementary school had a bake sale, I was coerced into helping. This didn’t sell, and I don’t have any room left in my fridge.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me. Thank Sharon the soccer mom for saying it looked too _gluteny_. Which isn’t even a word.” Regina snapped. “And for the record, if she wanted something healthy she shouldn’t have asked me to make a dessert.”

Emma made a noise somewhere between an exhale and a proper laugh. “Thank you, Sharon.” 

“Stop.” Regina shot her a look. She sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “Since I’m not required for story time duty tonight do you want me to warm you up a piece?”

“You don’t have to do that, Regina,” Emma told her, honest smile ghosting over her lips. “You should go home, enjoy your night of peace before the little nerd comes home.”

Regina breathed in sharply, and then forced herself to exhale slowly and calmly. The she made herself look up from her shoes to Emma’s face. “To be honest, I’d rather do this for you.” She glanced up towards the ceiling. “I’m having a ridiculous over-reaction to my sons first sleepover and I’d like a distraction.”

“Well, I’d like some pie,” Emma raised an eyebrow. “So you go distract yourself.”

Regina nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear before picking the pie back up and taking it to the kitchen. After a second thought, she took her coat off and hung that in the hallway – if Emma was going to eat now then she’d need to stay for a while to help her. Back in the kitchen, she pulled the cellophane off the pie and glanced towards the microwave where Emma had been apparently having most of her meals ‘cooked’ before she arrived. 

_Ridiculous_. Regina opened the oven, setting a slice of pie inside and closing it all without thinking about Henry. 

Except that was a lie. 

God, why was she getting so caught up on this? He was a happy, healthy, fourth-grader. This was perfectly normal. To be honest, she should be thankful he even had friends now. In Portland, she’d been just as concerned, but for the opposite reasons. 

She supposed she could go in and talk to Emma while the pie warmed up, but she was listening to her book – something she hadn’t done for such a long time that it counted as another small victory. She didn’t want to get in the way of that. So Regina stood against the kitchen side, checking her phone every few minutes. 

When the oven timer went off, she almost sighed in relief.

Snatching the oven gloves off the side, Regina lifted the pie out and cut a slice, depositing it onto a plate. She covered the rest back over and left it in the fridge. Breathing in and telling herself for the hundredth time not to overthink everything, she picked up a fork and tray and headed back for Emma’s room. 

Inside, the sunset had seeped through the window and lit up the room, white walls washed with orange. The audiobook had either finished or she’d turned it off. Regina held up the tray. “You want this now?”

Emma stared at her, wide-eyed, and then swallowed. “Why not?”

Regina might have been imagining things, but her voice sounded too bright, unnatural. Strange. She eyed her suspiciously for a second. Thinking better of it, she drew up a chair by Emma’s. She could feel Emma staring at her while she adjusted the tray. It was a feeling she was becoming increasingly familiar with. 

When she looked up to hold out a spoonful of pie for her, she was proven right. The blonde was just sitting there, looking at her, with an unreadable expression on her face.

“It’s okay,” Regina told her, corners of her lips very nearly curling into a smile. “I didn’t poison this one.”

Emma’s green eyes dropped from where they’d been trained on hers to her mouth – just for a second. Regina didn’t miss it. It made her stomach tighten and her heart thump faster, like it hadn’t done for years. And then she saw the quadriplegic swallow, watched the muscles in her neck bob and contract. She didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath until Emma leaned forward to try a spoonful. 

Not for the first time since Emma had squeezed her hand when they were watching that movie Regina found herself squinting back at the other woman and wondering, _what exactly is going on here?_

“It’s good,” Emma told her, with a nod and a weak smile. 

“Good.” Regina repeated, for some reason. The air between them seemed thick and heavy, like the feeling in the air before it rained.

Emma blinked, mouth slightly open, avoiding her eyes. She accepted another few mouthfuls of the pie. In the orange light from the window, her hair was shining, casting strange dark shadows over her face. Regina wondered why she’d never thought about her cheekbones before.  
Regina breathed in slowly, eyes trained on Emma’s. The air tasted different tonight. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said, so quickly and so sharply it couldn’t possibly be true. 

“Okay,” Regina breathed warily, narrowing her eyes. Emma’s jaw was clenched tight, green eyes flashing and defensive all of a sudden. Completely different to how she’d been ten, fifteen minutes ago when she’d asked after Henry and joked about soccer moms. Regina held up another piece of pie, almost tentatively. Whatever was going on with Emma, she didn’t want to upset her. “You sure?” 

“I’m fucking fine, Regina.” Emma snapped. Her voice rose with the colour in her cheeks. “You know what, I don’t really want your pie. So you can just go now.”

“What?” Regina stared, brows drawing into a frown. “I don’t understand, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Emma shook her head, mouth open, sunset casting orange light over her face, black shadows from her eyelashes. Her voice was sharp, cracking like a whip. It took everything in her not to flinch. “I mean, my entire body is but what’s new?”

Regina opened her mouth but for the first time in ten years she couldn’t find the words. She swallowed, searching. “Emma, I... Where is this coming from?”

“Nowhere.” Emma shrugged defensively. “I just want you to go, okay?”

“Emma...” Regina sighed, shaking her head hopelessly. Tentatively, she reached forward to lay a hand gently on Emma’s forearm. 

“Okay, don’t touch me.” Emma flinched. Visibly jerked her head away. It struck Regina’s chest like shrapnel. 

“But I don’t understand,” Regina could hear her own voice rising, shaking. “What’s going on, Emma, you can talk to me.”

“Just go, Regina!” Emma sighed. “For fucks’ sake, how hard is it?”

Regina stood up sharply, depositing the rest of the pie on the dresser. She could feel the pain turning to irrational, stupid Mills-woman anger in her veins. She tried to fight it. She really did try. “Fine!” She could hear her own voice cracking sharply. “I’ll see you Monday.” 

Brow furrowed, head down to hide the confusion and anger and tears, Regina strode out of the room as quickly as she could, grabbing her coat off the hook and heading for the door. _God._ Of course something like this had to happen. _Of course_. 

Just when she thought they’d been making progress. Just when she’d thought – Regina curled her fingers into her palms and did what Emma asked her to. She left. 

-0-

“Wait!” Emma’s voice was rough and thick in her own ears. It was a wonder she could speak at all with the lump in her throat. She swallowed hard. “Wait, Regina!” 

She stopped, held her breath. After a second, she heard the click of heels against hardwood floors getting closer and if she could have collapsed in relief, she would have. Emma straightened her neck as high as she could in her chair, craning toward the door with her heartbeat in her throat. It opened briskly, Regina appearing sharply in the doorway. Emma’s breath caught in her throat. 

“What?” Regina demanded, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The orange light shone in her dark hair. Every muscle looked tensed: her jaw was tight, her lips were pressed together, her eyes were wide and accusatory. 

Why did she always have to do this? Why was she always so... _God._ Emma stared hopelessly. Then she opened her mouth, and the words just spilled out of her, low and rushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –” She searched for the right words. “I just have bad days sometimes, when I can’t do things, and I act like an ass and I take it out on the wrong people and I promise you I didn’t mean to offend you or anything like that...” Emma trailed off hopelessly. “And for the record, your pie was actually really good.”

Regina raised her eyebrows, avoiding Emma’s gaze for a minute. 

“I know that,” She said, finally. “I know.”

Emma forced a smile. “Okay.”

“But I think I’m going to leave now anyway,” Regina told her. She paused. “Let you have some alone time.” 

“Okay,” Emma repeated, nodding. As Regina turned to open the door, hand resting on the wooden doorframe, she couldn’t help herself from opening her mouth. Her heart was racing. “But we’re good, yeah?”

Regina turned back, profile glowing against the sunset shadows. “We’re good.” She confirmed sincerely, before she disappeared around the door. 

Once she was alone, Emma sighed heavily, fighting back the tears that stung behind her eyes as she listened to Regina’s heels clicking over the hallway, heard the annex door slam shut behind her. The sun was sinking behind the horizon now, orange light waning. _Stupid, stupid. Shit. Fuck. Shit._

Emma tried to close her eyes and hide in the darkness like she always used to, but now every time she did all she could see was that stupid concerned look on Regina’s face, hear her soft, worried, gentle voice. 

_This could be a problem_ , she thought, trying not to acknowledge that is already was.


	10. Friends and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, looks like you got another update before I run off to France tonight. Let’s just say reading your reviews made me feel guilty, so hopefully this will keep you going until I get back. Henry makes everything better.
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone spreading the NGU love! You’re all fabulous.

The Monday after Emma’s episode, Regina decided to take a brief detour on her way to work to grab a coffee and emotionally prepare herself for the day ahead. 

She kissed Henry goodbye at the school gates and stood and watched him disappear into the building as usual, before turning around and heading down her usual route through Main Street. Overhead, grey clouds were gathering. The abrasive bite of winter was sharp in the air. 

Regina sighed down at the pavement, breath fogging. She was trying to make sense of what had happened – she’d been trying all weekend, if she was being completely honest. They’d been doing _so_ well. To go so quickly from one extreme to another... Heels clicking against the concrete, Regina buried her hands further in the pockets of her coat. 

It took a few minutes before she reached that diner everyone talked about, the little vintage-looking place she’d noted when she first arrived. Well, she wasn’t about to face Emma completely unarmed, even if it meant having to make small talk with strangers. 

So Regina breathed in, steeled herself and headed past the outside tables to push into the diner. Inside, the air was warm and smelled like coffee. Absently taking in the twee wallpaper and elderly patrons, she flipped her hair behind her shoulder and approached the old woman behind the counter. 

“Morning,” The woman – Granny, presumably – greeted her gruffly. 

“Yes, good morning,” Regina replied briskly, with a glance at the chalkboard above her head. “Can I get a coffee to go, please? Black.”

“On it.” The woman – because Regina may have been softening up to this quaint little town, but she would never refer to a non-relation as _Granny_. To be honest, she’d never call her own grandmother _granny_. “Three dollars fifty.”

Regina dug in her bag for her purse and handed over the right change. She lingered beside the counter while the employee behind the counter went about brewing her coffee. With the sounds of china clinking and people talking all around, she felt herself slipping back into _worrying about Emma_ mode. 

She just couldn’t figure out what she’d done wrong. 

Leaning back against the counter, Regina tucked a dark wave of hair behind her ear and stared at her boots. Black. Heeled. She’d bought   
them in an end-of-season sale in Portland. Mother hated them. She sighed. She hadn’t done anything wrong – at least, she didn’t think she had. What was unendingly strange to her was how Emma had snapped back to herself just as quickly as she’d snapped away. One moment smiling, the next shouting, the next saying sorry. _God_ , Regina thought, _that woman is so_ completely _opposed to making sense._

“Here you go,” A voice from behind jerked her back to reality. Regina turned back to the server – a different woman now – as a steaming cup was set in front of her. “Enjoy your day.”

Regina accepted the cup quickly and managed to muster a brief thank you. She was just looking down to pull her dark gloves off when her train of thought was derailed by a nervous, chirpy voice. 

“Excuse me?” 

Regina glanced up expectantly. The girl hanging around awkwardly in front of her was dressed in a severely altered version of the waitress’s uniform (alterations included red streaks in her dark hair) and drumming her fingers anxiously against her thighs. 

“You’re Regina Mills, aren’t you?” She asked, raising a dark eyebrow. “Emma Swan’s carer.”

“That would be me,” Regina replied, taking a sip of her coffee and placing it back down on the saucer. _Though God knows why_. 

“Right,” The waitress nodded. She had to look down about half a foot to be able to catch Regina’s eye. “Well, I’m Ruby.” Ruby paused, swinging back and forth on her heels like she was about to get to the point. She breathed in, and then shot a look back at Regina again. “I heard she’s been getting out a bit more lately. Is she doing okay? Like, mentally, I mean. Do you think she’s better?”

Regina paused, mouth open. A week ago, she would have said yes. Finally, diplomatically, Regina told her; “I think she’s better than she was.”

“Oh. Cool.” Ruby smiled weakly. “Could you maybe... Talk to her for me? We used to be pretty good friends before her accident.”

“What do you want me to say?” Regina asked, wrapping her fingers tighter around her coffee cup, though the heat was already beginning to leach out into the air. 

“Just... Tell her she can call me _whenever_. And that if she ever wants to hang out, I’m here for her.” Ruby said eagerly. The waitress glanced around sharply before dropping down onto the bar stool next to Regina and leaning forward, almost conspiratorially. “We all are, actually. All our old friends.”

“I will,” Regina assured her. She paused, speaking slowly and carefully. “But you know that if you ask her, she doesn’t have any friends.”

“Yeah. I kind of thought so,” Ruby winced. She took a second before she spoke again, more confidently. “She thinks she’s an expert in pushing everyone away but... to be honest, she is not as good as she thinks she is.”

“I know,” Regina spoke carefully, after a long deliberation. It was like the knot in her chest had been unwound, the frustration diffused. A small smile threatened at the corners of her mouth. “Try telling her that.”

“Um, _yeah_.” Ruby broke out in a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Regina stood up straighter, picking the cup up into both of her hands. She narrowed her eyes at the redhead, breathing in and trying to think of the right thing to say. “Thank you, actually,” Regina settled on. “I think you may have just helped me understand some things.”

Ruby beamed. “Happy to help.”

“Ruby!” A voice barked from behind the counter. “Back to work. Sometime this year might be nice.”

“Sorry,” Ruby shot her one last smile, after a glance over her shoulder at the old woman. “My granny runs a pretty tight ship around here.” She hopped off the stool, tightening the apron strings around her waist. “Just tell Emma what I said.”

“I will,” Regina nodded, hoisting her bag back over her arm and heading for the diner door, feeling... clear. 

She pushed out into the sharp winter air running through things in her head. So Emma had been trying to push her away – that much was clear now. Practically obvious. Regina almost felt stupid for not working it out sooner. 

Emma had tried to push her away. But that left one unanswered question burning in her mind: _Why?_

Regina pulled her coat tighter around herself, wondering. Whatever the reason, she resolved, she was going to find out. 

-0-

“Morning,” 

Emma glanced up sharply from the TV at the sound of Regina’s voice, calling in from the hallway with the sound of her heels and her jangling keys. 

She swallowed and stiffened – as much as she could – against the headrest of her chair. _Get a grip, Emma_ , she snapped at herself. So she’d freaked out in front of her. Big deal. It was bound to happen at some point, and she’d apologized after all. They were good, right? Regina had said. Regina, who currently sounded no more strained than usual. _She_ clearly wasn’t overthinking this.

Emma breathed in and tried to school her features into some kind of normal expression as Regina turned the doorknob and pushed into the room. She was wearing a charcoal-grey coat and black wool scarf, and clutching a takeaway coffee cup in her manicured hand. Emma frowned at the logo. “What? The queen of healthy eating found Granny’s?” 

“I needed a pick-me-up.” Regina informed her, placing the cup down on the side along with her bag and keys.

“Right,” Emma said, with a sheepish glance at her hands. “Sorry about that. Yelling at you the other night. That was... pretty shitty of me.”

“It’s perfectly understandable, Miss Swan.” Regina replied easily, _lied_ being the operative syllable. 

Emma almost cracked a smile at her effort. Her heart was still holding its’ breath. “So I’ve been demoted?” 

Regina looked over her shoulder from where she stood scanning the to-do list Mary Margaret had left her. She arched one perfect eyebrow like she’d been rehearsing it for weeks. “What?” 

“Miss Swan,” Emma reminded her. “I don’t think you’ve called me that since, like, your second day working here.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise.” Regina didn’t look at her, instead leaning back and smoothing a dark strand of hair back between her fingers. She inhaled slowly. “For the record, you _haven’t_ been demoted. I understand it’s not easy for you. God knows if I was in your position I’d be a lot less agreeable a lot more of the time.”

“Right.” Emma said again, mustering a smile and managing to look over at her. “Thanks. I still feel like crap about it.”

“I told you, Emma. It’s fine.” Regina shot her a look, unwinding her scarf. A lock of dark hair caught on the fabric to fall against her neck. “I do understand.”

Emma swallowed, and summoned another smile. “You know, for the record, your pie was pretty great.” 

“Of course it was,” Regina, when she met her gaze this time, matched her smile. She was wearing the same dark lipstick she’d been wearing the day they went to the jewellery store. A few shades shy of red. Emma wasn’t sure why she kept noticing. Regina placed her scarf beside her bag and drew up a chair beside her, crossing her legs. 

Emma could feel her looking at her. “What?” She asked, trying to sound casual. 

“A girl named Ruby spoke to me today,” Regina informed her crisply, eyebrows slightly raised. “She wants you to know that she’s here for you if you ever want to, quote, _hang out_.” She paused, meeting her gaze carefully. “Apparently all your old friends are just waiting for you to get back to them.”

“Ruby –” Emma’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. Her mind raced defensively, despite the way her heart had leapt. “ _Ruby_ said that to you?”  
Regina nodded. “Ruby being the young woman with the ridiculous hair and tiny shorts, yes.”

“Oh.” Emma heard her voice fade away in the air. 

_Ruby..._ She couldn’t help her brows drawing into a slight frown at her name. She was a sweet girl, optimistic and extroverted but Emma had seen her serious side. She had a strong sense of wrong and right. To offer her friendship again after Emma had been such an ass to her... 

“Emma?” Regina’s voice gently anchored her back to the present. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Emma said absently. She noticed Regina was talking to her a little more softly than usual – it was almost like how her mom spoke to her, like she was a bomb that had to be handled carefully. But slightly different – because unlike Mary Margaret, she knew Regina wasn’t afraid of the explosion. “I just... I wasn’t very nice to her at a time when she just wanted to help me.” 

The brunette breathed in lightly and tossed her shiny dark hair back from her face. Where she was sitting slightly in front of the window, Emma had to squint to look at her. “People have a much larger capacity for goodness than you might think.” Regina said. “You’d know that if you spent more time with them.”

Emma managed to crack a smile. Her heart was beating beyond her better judgement. 

“Look. I’m taking Henry to this museum a few miles out of town on Saturday.” Regina told her. “He’s been asking about it, and I wanted to do something with him before he left for Robin’s in the holidays. Why don’t you come?” She paused, smile still etched over her lips. “Just so I can really prove you’re forgiven for the other night. It might be good for you.”

Emma considered, mouth open. “I don’t want to intrude –” 

“You won’t be.” Regina assured her immediately. “Henry’s been asking when he’s going to see you again. He thinks you’re a superhero.”

“I don’t know...” Emma faltered. She was surprised by the sudden offer, but Regina seemed so certain...

“Really, Swan. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” Emma trailed off. There was no point protesting any further. Regina was already wearing that look that she knew she couldn’t argue with. 

-0-

“And – and did you know that some scientists think that the T-rex might even have had feathers? How cool would that have looked!” 

“Wow,” Emma said, sounding genuinely enthused. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she actually was. “That is definitely cool. Dinosaurs are super punk.”

“Most dinosaurs were actually vegetarians.” Henry informed her matter-of-factly. He was practicaly bouncing, grinning and staring around the display cases like a kid in a candy store. “But the ones that did eat meat usually only had two legs.” _A nerd in a museum_ , Emma thought, restraining a smile as she watched him babble. 

“Two legs?” Emma raised her eyebrows over-dramatically. “Like human legs?” 

“No!” Henry laughed. He’d been glued to her side all day, since he’d arrived with his mom this morning, bundled in a scarf larger than his pink face. Regina was definitely the _dangerously proud_ mother archetype – Emma had seen that since her first damn day – but apparently she was also the _hilariously careful_ mom too. It was funny, but the kid did look cute, she had to admit. “Like dinosaur legs!”

“Right,” Emma grinned. “Still couldn’t outrun a meteor. Suckers.”

“Okay, but if a meteor came now we wouldn’t survive either...”

“Bullsh – _baloney!_ We can just all move into the space station, right? Out of the path of destruction.”

“That wouldn’t work.” Henry folded his arms across his skinny chest and shook his head in a motion that was so very Regina Emma nearly burst out laughing. 

Though her wheels were squeaking against the floor, and the murmuring people wandering between exhibits stared too long, Emma couldn’t help the feeling bubbling up in her chest again. That feeling that maybe not everything was terrible. Because she was here, in a museum she had never – despite living less than a mile away – been to before, and it wasn’t terrible, or boring, or tragically uncool like she’d thought when she was a kid. 

It was actually getting kind of good, pushing clumsily on the chair buttons to scoot herself between glass display cases and information plaques, and listening to Henry chatter on a million miles an hour in her ear. If Emma was being honest, she was getting along with him way easier than she would have done with any of the adults here. He was tiny and pale and bouncy and he looked at her the same way Regina did, like she was a person, not a tragedy. 

Plus, even though Henry had dragged them into the natural history section a while ago and was low-key refusing to leave, they’d entered via the science gallery, and Regina had looked way too fascinated by the weird chemistry set things. Emma smiled down at her lap at the memory, kind of zoning out of Henry’s live fossil commentary. 

Her carer had leaned over all the display cases, small grin on her painted lips, dark eyes wide. She’d looked almost like a kid herself, and it had given Emma that other weird feeling, the pounding-heartbeat-twisting-stomach one that she was trying not to think about.

Beside her, Henry was pointing to what looked like a large piece of stone and enthusiastically giving Emma what felt like a geography lesson. She tossed a look over her shoulder at his mother. 

_Lady might know squat about comic books_ , Emma thought, _but this is_ so _where the little nerd gets it from_. 

She hadn’t thought about her outburst all day.

-0-

Regina bit back a smile. 

Emma was grinning at her over her shoulder – _grinning_. God, when was the last time she’d done that? It was nice to see, particularly after how guilty she looked at the start of the week. By her judgement, they were moving past the pie incident at a steady pace. Then again, it wasn’t as if she’d spent much quality time with Emma today – or Henry. 

Since arriving, Emma managed to press her wheelchair buttons and get herself around to keep up with Henry, who insisted Emma accompany him to every exhibit and exchange opinions. 

The two of them were currently crowded around a glass case containing the state’s oldest fossil: Henry, gaping, was chattering away animatedly, gesturing and grinning that thousand-watt grin that he hadn’t quite grown into yet. Emma, beside him in her chair, was making the right sounds, agreeing nods. Regina could see the reflection of her face in the glass.

Emma, who had greeted them this morning – already beanie-ed and jacketed - with smiles and terrible jokes, a slight uncertainty in her wide green eyes that told Regina she was really, _really_ trying. It had put a smile on Regina’s face that hadn’t quite left all day. 

“Hey, Mom!” Henry spun around from the case, shifting his X-Men backpack on his narrow shoulders and bounding back to her, eyes shining. “Can I go see the pterodactyl bones? They’re like, just over there, Mom, can I?”

Regina spun on her heels to find her son suddenly at her elbow, practically bouncing. He was grinning, hazel eyes wide; it was like there’d been some inner light tuned on, and now it was shining out him. She couldn’t remember him ever looking so happy back in Portland. It gave her a breathless rush of pride. “Maybe wait for Emma and I to finish with this wing first –”

“Mom –” 

“Let the kid live a little.” Emma’s voice made Regina jump, turning to find the blonde’s wheelchair approaching her other side. The other woman was leaning her head back casually against the back o her chair, beanie yanked down over her long blonde curls. She winked at Henry. “Go on, little man. I’ll keep an eye on your mom. Promise.”

She shot a hopeful sideways look at Regina, green eyes shining under the fluorescent museum lights. _God, this woman can look like a puppy dog when she wants to._ When she turned back to Henry, a similar expression was on his face. Regina sighed. She was really going to have to tell Emma not to teach him any more tricks like that. “Fine, but don’t leave the room without –”

“I won’t!” Henry promised, already bounding off. 

“Don’t go too far!” Regina called, wincing after him. He was already worming his way through a group of elderly women.

“Hey,” Emma’s voice was soft beside her. “The case is literally just there. He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Regina muttered, arms folding defensively over her chest. She shot a look at the blonde, seemingly very nearly happy, before carrying on the slow meander about the artefacts. They kept pace with each other, Emma’s wheels squeaking against the polished linoleum floor and Regina’s heels clicking. 

Overhead, the ceiling was high and ornate, the glass-cased exhibits all around frequented by a handful of pensioners and young families. For once, Regina could see what Emma meant about people staring: it made her blood boil. She glared daggers at anyone who gaped too long, and that put an end to it.

While Henry ran about the other end of the room, marvelling over the display case, Regina breathed in, arms folding across her chest. Emma had been in such high spirits all day, she almost didn’t want to break the spell. Regina opened her mouth. “Did you call Ruby yet?” 

Emma didn’t look at her, eyes fixed firmly on Henry’s laughing figure. “Nope.”

Regina pursed her lips, watching her son. “You want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” 

The single word faded into the air, almost excruciatingly casual. The silence between them was filled with footsteps and squeaky trainers, the low murmur of conversation, a tour guide carrying on their speech in the corner. Regina shot her a sideways look. 

“I guess,” Emma began, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “It’s just hard to say sorry, when you know you were in the wrong.”

“You said sorry to me almost immediately after you tried to shut me out.” Regina reminded her, not missing a beat. She tried to catch Emma’s gaze.

“I didn’t –” Emma seemed to jerk upright in her chair – neck straightening, mouth falling open, green eyes wide. Regina restrained a sigh as she watched the other woman struggle to put her guards up fast enough. “Shut you out from what – I don’t –”

“The other night,” Regina clarified. “Isn’t that what you were doing?”

“No – I don’t – I don’t know.” Emma admitted, avoiding her eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” Regina replied immediately. She felt her brow furrow of its own accord. I was hoping you could tell me. For some reason, her heart was beating faster than usual. 

“Mom!” 

Regina was jerked from her chance by her sons’ excitable squeak, looking up to see him weaving a path back towards them through the clusters of bored-looking students. His X-Men backpack bounced on his skinny shoulders. 

“Mom, it was _so_ cool, you have to come see it!” Henry announced, skidding to a stop in front of them. His trainers squeaked on the polished floor like Emma’s wheels. “Come on, Emma!” 

With that, he grabbed Regina’s hand, and Regina grabbed Emma’s chair, and there was no more to be said about walls and reasons and Ruby from the diner.

And, Regina thought, that was okay.

Because the real turning point in the day came just before they left: when the three of them were heading towards the main foyer, Henry laden with bags from the gift shop – he’d bought Christmas presents for all his school friends – and Regina wheeling Emma’s chair, since the strain on her fingers from today was already wearing on her. It came from Henry, piping up just as they moved past the security guard with the donations tin. 

Chirpy. Casual. Courageous. 

“Can I push Emma’s wheelchair?”

Regina opened her mouth, eyes darting between the woman in the chair and her son. “Henry, I don’t think –”

“Sure you can,” Emma grinned. “Not too fast okay, kid. I’m not averse to a little Fast and Furious action but you know your mom worries.” Regina stared at her, shocked – but the other woman was still looking at her son.

“Yes ma’am.” Henry nodded, very seriously. Puffing a flyaway strand of brown hair from his eyes, he breathed in and very carefully stepped forward to take the handles of the chair. He was just big enough to reach. 

They left like that, and for some reason, the sight of her son happily chattering away to Emma as he pushed her out into the parking lot made something that had been frozen a long time inside Regina’s chest _melt._


	11. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! To everyone asking, I had a lovely time and now have a lovely tan, which is always nice. It was also so nice to come back to all your lovely reviews and messages! Once again, huge love to all of you, you are absolutely incredible.
> 
> I am sorry for not posting on this site yesterday, everything was completely mad coming back from France.
> 
> (I'm also posting my entries for Swan Queen Week next Monday if anyone's interested!)

"Mom, why don't you ever go on dates?"

Regina very nearly choked on her water. "Excuse me? Where is this coming from?"

Henry looked up at her across the dinner table, smiling unaffectedly. He was swinging his legs under the table and toying with the vegetables left on his plate, completely unfazed. "Well, Aunt Kathryn's always talking about when she and Frederick go on dates. And you've been divorced from Dad for months!"

"Yes, I have." Regina agreed. This was probably not a healthy response for a child to have to his parents divorcing. All the articles she'd read online said that children of divorce often acted as a go-between, or wanted their parents to get back together. Absolutely nowhere had she read that they would pressure them into dating other people. "But Kathryn and I are different people."

"Yeah," Henry agreed enthusiastically, cutting up his vegetables. "You're prettier than she is."

"Henry!" Regina, for the second time, nearly spat out her water. She took a moment to compose herself before looking her son firmly in the eye. "Firstly, we don't compare women's looks like that. And secondly, that's not got anything to do with it. Dating is complicated." She paused. "So don't you ever grow up and do it."

"Okay," Henry picked at his plate dejectedly for all of a second before lifting his head back to look at his mother again. He was still swinging his legs under the table, but now his small face was screwed up in dissatisfied confusion. "But _why_ is it complicated?"

Regina sighed. "Henry."

Henry sighed. "Mom." He was using her exact tone of voice.

For all his nine-year-old dignity, Regina managed to suppress her laugh. She breathed in. Once more, she composed herself. "It's complicated because I was with your father for a very long time." She explained. "And when you're with one person for that long, you get so used to them that being with other people takes time to adjust to." She breathed out, turning her gaze back down to her fork. "Not to mention there's nobody that likes me way."

"But _why_?" Henry asked again, a hint of a whine creeping into his voice.

"Because," Regina told him firmly, trying not laugh at herself, sitting eating dinner in a small town in Maine and discussing her relationship prospects with her nine-year-old son. "There's just not, okay? And I can see you hiding your peas under that piece of lettuce."

It wasn't until later, as she was closing Henry's bedroom door behind her after his nightly story, that she remembered that flicker of something that had crossed Emma's face just before she snapped the other night, the way she had looked almost afraid before she had pulled back and started shouting.

Regina pulled her silk robe tighter around herself as she crossed the landing, pushing into her own bedroom thinking about walls and defences and green eyes meeting hers over a cold slice of pie. _There's just not, okay?_

She felt a frown appear between her eyebrows as she sat down on her bed and began to wonder if that was still true.

-0-

As one of Storybrooke's infamous heavy winter rainfalls pounded against the walls and windows of her annex, Emma sat and finally plugged herself into one of the audiobooks her mom had bought her after the accident.

She'd been meaning to for a while, if only to make Mary Margaret happy, and reading on a rainy day seemed enough like something normal to make Regina happy. _Look at me making an effort for them_ , Emma thought, while the overly-enthusiastic voice reader rambled on in her ears. _It's like I'm growing_. She closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the story like she would have before.

It had been a good day. It had been a good week, if she was being totally honest – ever since their trip to the museum, when Henry had grinned and rambled and pushed her out to the car like it was the most normal thing in the world, things hadn't been... So bad, as they were before. It was weird.

She and Regina had had a brief conversation when she first came in this morning, but there was a lot for the brunette to do, so they'd quickly slipped into their usual companionable co-existence. Regina seemed distracted today anyway – like she'd fallen more inside herself than usual. Which was fair enough. The world didn't give her enough credit, Emma thought, for what she was dealing with.

It wasn't until later, when the sky outside the rain-streaked window had turned the colour of lilacs and Emma had finished the latest chapter of whatever terrible spy drama she was listening to, that they really talked.

"So what are you listening to?" Regina asked absently, from across the room, where she was standing organising Emma's medication. Alphabetically, apparently. _This woman, honestly_.

"Some crappy Bourne knockoff," Emma admitted. "My mom got me a bunch of these things last year." She paused, squinting in the light from the window. "It's, like, _really_ bad."

Emma was sitting against the wall on her bed, and though she could only see the back of Regina's head across the room, she swore she was smiling. Maybe that was stupid. Whatever. Regina turned around to dispose of an empty pillbox. "How bad?"

"So bad even the weird breathy old lady voice reading it can't make it funny." Emma told her. "She's even worse than the guy who thought he was auditioning for a Shakespeare play reading the last one."

"You want me to read?" Regina asked, eyebrows raised. She was leaning back against the cabinet now, head cocked. Apparently she'd finished sifting through the pills.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that." Emma hastily assured her.

"Really, Swan." She flashed a smile. "It's my job."

Emma was going to say thank you, but that kind of seemed redundant after her last statement, so she just glanced down at her lap and said, "Okay." She paused, watching Regina look back at her. "The actual paper books are with the rest of the tapes in the box."

"Right," Regina moved over to the Amazon box the set was still sitting in, frowning into it. "Which one were you listening to?"

Embarrassment flooded through her. "It's _Shafter Legacy Reborn_."

Her eyes were glued to Regina as the brunette rummaged through the box, peering at titles with her hair falling around her face in the pale evening sunlight, until she held up the paperback she was looking for. "Found it." Regina smoothed down her hair, going to pull up a chair by the window.

"You don't have to sit halfway across the room," Emma told her suddenly. She motioned with her head to the spot next to her. "Come on. Sit. I'd be patting this side of the bed if I could."

"Okay," Regina allowed warily. "If you're sure." Emma glanced up as the brunette carefully sat down beside her on the covers, feeling the mattress shift with the new weight. She watched Regina shift, sitting back against the wall and opening the book. "What chapter are we on?"

"Um, twelve."

"Right," Regina's eyes scanned the book as her manicured fingers flipped fastidiously through the pages. "Got it. Top of the page?"

"Top of the page," Emma confirmed.

" _Agent Shafter looked up from his newspaper at the sound of the hotel door opening. Though he knew who was seeking him, his instincts still told him to reach for his gun_..." Regina began.

Emma couldn't help watching her as she read. Her brown eyes moved over the page quickly while she spoke, and her low voice was clear and precise, the kind of voice that belonged in an old movie. In the sunlight, her dark hair shone over her shoulders.

Every time the author used a particularly fifth-grade metaphor or wasted another scene on Shafter's man pain, Regina would break her monologue to make an unimpressed noise in the back of her throat, or some comment under her breath. Reading with Regina occasionally muttering _that's original_ or _I think someone needs to brush up on their equality_ was a hell of a lot better than regular reading.

She was sitting close enough that Emma could look over and see the words on the page as she read them, and it was almost like she was reading like a normal person, which was nice.

It was nice until the love scene started, at least.

" _Shafter stared into her eyes._ " Regina read. Her voice was steady and clear but Emma could hear the hint of derision in her voice. " _He couldn't remember feeling such a strong pull to anyone before. There was something about her; the way her dark eyes looked at him through the hot Mexican night, the way her body moved._ " Regina broke off suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the book. "As a Latina woman I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with how I'm being represented here."

Emma snorted.

" _Maria kept on looking at him. He wished he knew what she was thinking. He'd studied a dozen languages, seduced a dozen women_ – why am I not surprised – _but this was different and they both knew it. They lunged together at the same time, the spy and his informant. Her nails dug into the back of his neck while they kissed, all open mouths and sweat. Shafter decided, just as Maria's tongue passed his lips, he didn't care whose side she was on. Tonight, there would be no sides. And he was glad_ –"

"Jesus." Emma muttered under her breath.

"What's wrong?" Regina dropped her reading voice, tone going back to normal as she turned to her, actual concern in her eyes despite the cocked eyebrow. "Not a fan of drippy love scenes?"

Emma shook her head, wincing slightly as if she had a headache. Sighing, she raised her eyebrows. "I think all that stuff just gets to me sometimes."

"Why's that?" Regina asked, voice soft and inquisitive but not prying, or making fun. Emma glanced sideways at her, looking at her tilted head, the book resting in her slender hands.

"Because," Emma shook her head. "It's like a weird reminder that stuff _exits_ for some people. Hell, it used to exist for me. I was a drippy teenager once, writing crappy poetry about some girl I liked and now it's like..." She paused. "I don't know. It's like that's a part of a whole different world."

"Emma," Regina said her name like it was the start of a laugh. And then there was a gentle hand resting lightly on her forearm and her heart was racing and she would have given anything to be able to touch her back. Emma swallowed. She could feel Regina trying to catch her gaze. "You know your disability doesn't inhibit your romantic life, right?"

Emma did actually laugh then. "Yeah right."

"Emma," Regina said incredulously. "You can't honestly mean that."

Emma shrugged her shoulders self-consciously and pointedly avoided the brunette's stare, focusing on the empty black screen of the TV on the opposite wall. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. "'Course I do." She said. "I don't have baggage, I _am_ baggage." She paused. "Nobody looks at a wheelchair and wants to sit opposite it on a date."

It was true. And she didn't really feel bad about it, not anymore. It was just another fact of life. Something she'd had to grow up and accept because frankly, life hadn't exactly given her another option.

"That's not true." Regina told her. Emma breathed in slowly and summoned the courage to turn her head and look at her. The brunette had closed the book now; she was almost smiling but her eyes were sincere. "Fine, you can't walk or make your own toast in the morning. You might not be able to do a push up or hold a baby. But _nothing_ and none of that limits your ability to love and be loved."

Emma's stare dropped to her lips for a moment. She could feel tears building behind her eyes, for some reason. "I just don't..." She frowned, shrugging again. "The circumstances aren't right."

"When are they ever?" Regina laughed incredulously, softly. Emma wanted to bottle the sound and save it for a rainy day. "Emma. Love is never simple. It's never easy. That wouldn't do anyone any good."

"What would you know?" Emma asked, almost smiling, not quite. "Miss Classy Shiny-Haired Able-Bodied Adult?"

"More than you'd think." Regina told her. "I'm a divorced thirtysomething mother, I don't exactly have people lining up around the block."

"Okay, but you have to see why I have trouble believing that," Emma muttered, but it was good-naturedly.

Regina's stare didn't waver. "And why would that be?"

"Because you're beautiful."

Regina stared at her. Her brown eyes were wide and shining, her lips were parted. She looked taken aback. She looked a little bit happy. Emma honestly couldn't fathom how she didn't see it. Regina blinked, and breathed in. "Regardless, I don't think –"

"Come on, Regina. You can't seriously have relationship trouble." Emma's gaze met hers. Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you."

Regina raised an eyebrow slightly, smiling mirthlessly. "Miss Swan –"

"I'm not just talking about the way you look." Emma said suddenly, quickly. She was scared if she didn't say all this now she never would. "I mean, you _are_ gorgeous, and I'm sure you get that a lot but – you're smart, and you've got this awesome dry kind of humour, you're a great mother, you are kind, don't say you're not, and I just –" She faded of, lips curved into a small bittersweet smile, green eyes honest. "Who wouldn't want you?"

"I –" Regina faltered. For the first time since they'd met, she looked genuinely unsure. "You're very kind."

Emma's gaze sought hers, holding it gently. "I think we both know that's not true."

Regina stared. She stared deeper, searching Emma's unyielding green eyes for some kind of confirmation or denial. _Could she – is she_ – Regina closed her mouth, swallowed. Heat was flushing delicately over her cheeks.

Heart thumping, she blinked and tried to shake away the feeling that was gripping her from inside out. Emma held her gaze, too afraid to look away.

"Regardless." Regina made herself say, voice forced and polite. "You're not alone."

She left not long after, questions from the previous night all but confirmed in her beating heart.


	12. Where We Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is all Emma and Regina with other people, but for me that’s just as important for them as being with each other, and it all ties in. Might our ladies be growing? Time will tell. As always, big love to everyone reading and supporting this story! 
> 
> Also, one of my entries for SQW is now up on here and FFN if you want to check that out! I’ll be adding others as I write them, because my muse is a bitch for anything other than this at the minute.

By the time Regina arrived at Granny’s Saturday morning, Kathryn was already waiting for her outside, hands buried deep in the pockets of her thick tan coat. Regina felt a surge of gratitude for her friend. 

Last night, after Henry was tucked soundly into bed, Regina had found herself picking up her phone and texting her old college roommate for a catch up – the thought of being left alone to deal with whatever may or may not have been happening with Emma Swan was dangerous. They hadn’t really spoken for a few weeks anyway, and since Henry was spending Saturday morning with a school friend for a project, it worked out perfectly. 

She’d been trying hard not to overthink the Emma situation. Frankly, she’d been failing. 

Breathing in and firmly putting all thoughts of the blonde quadriplegic from her mind, Regina flipped a dark wave of hair behind her shoulder and conjured up a smile. Kathryn met it easily, motioning her over as she approached. “Morning, stranger.” Her friend greeted. “How are you?” She paused, grey eyes searching. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing better,” Regina assured her truthfully, after a brief pause to consider. “Shall we go in? I don’t remember you mentioning how cold Storybrooke gets in your sales pitch.”

“Oh, this is nothing.” Kathryn smiled, rolling her eyes slightly and following Regina up the steps to the steamy glass-paned door. The bell chimed as they walked in. “Wait ‘til February.”

Inside, Regina sighed as a wave of warm, coffee-scented air hit her skin. There were already half a dozen people occupying scattered booths and tables, filling the air with a low buzz of conversation out of time with the clinking cups and cutlery. It wasn’t Granny or Ruby behind the counter today – _thank God_. Today was _not_ a day for small talk with Emma Swan’s ex-friends. She pulled her leather gloves off one after the other, flexing her stiff fingers. December had well and truly settled into the little town.

She followed Kathryn into a booth by the foggy window, sliding into the far seat and fastidiously unwinding her black wool scarf. While Kathryn started up the polite small talk that seemed to precede all of their conversations, Regina shrugged out of her coat and folded it neatly on the seat beside her, untucking her hair from the collar of her blouse. It was down past her collarbones now, the longest it had been since she was at college – she wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. She could feel Kathryn watching her. 

Regina shot her a look, smoothing her scarf between her hands. “What?”

“You’re avoiding something.” Kathryn stated, ridding herself of her own white knit scarf. When Regina opened her mouth to protest, the blonde’s thin eyebrows shot up half an inch, effectively cutting her off. “I’ve known you since you were eighteen, Regina, I know when there’s something on your mind.” She paused, with a slight sympathetic tilt of her head. “Is it Robin?”

Regina had to physically supress a laugh. 

“Good morning, ladies, is there anything I can get you today?” 

Regina looked up from the Formica-topped table, relief washing over her at the sight of the beaming, red-aproned waitress standing over them, notebook and pen poised in hand. She cleared her throat and fixed on another casual smile. “I’ll have a black coffee. Medium.”

“Black coffee,” The waitress nodded, before turning to Kathryn. 

“Yeah, can I get a flat white? And a feta salad panini.” She paused, turning back to Regina across the table. “You sure you don’t want to get anything to eat? The food here is to die for.”

“I’m sure,” Regina declined graciously, with another smile. How many was that now? Maybe Kathryn wasn’t so wrong in her psychoanalysis. 

The waitress nodded and disappeared behind the counter, returning not long later with a tray bearing two steaming teacups and Kathryn’s sandwich. Once she’d left, Regina waited a beat before raising her gaze back to her friend: Kathryn was sitting looking at her, evidently unconvinced. There was a moment neither of them spoke. “Seriously, Regina.” Her friend urged. “What’s up?”

Regina opened her mouth, searching for the right thing to say. Eventually, she sighed and relented. “Well, it’s not Robin.” She shot her a look. 

Interest sparked in Kathryn’s blue eyes. “Is there someone else?” 

“No! No.” Regina frowned, shaking her head. She raised her cup and took a scalding sip of coffee. “Not exactly.” 

Kathryn’s eyes were wide, brows shooting skyward once again. “ _Not exactly?_ ”

“No,” Regina repeated again, more firmly. “Not like that. It’s...” She trailed off, feeling the furrow between her eyebrows. “Complicated.” 

“We have all morning,” Kathryn reminded her simple, gesturing to their table. Her eyes never left Regina as she lifted her cup and took a sip. “Let it out.” 

“I think...” Regina trailed off, searching for the right way to say it. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was she was trying to say. She closed her eyes a moment before meeting Kathryn’s, mouth open. “I think Emma Swan likes me.” _And I think I might like her too_. 

Kathryn nearly spat out of her coffee. Regina silently watched the damage she’d caused: the blonde struggled to swallow, wiping the corners of her mouth on a flowery napkin. She took a moment to catch her breath, eyes huge, brows shooting toward her hairline. “ _What?_ ” 

Regina breathed in tightly. “You heard me. I believe that Emma Swan _likes_ me.” 

The brunette took a curt sip of coffee.

“I’m sorry, I just... _Where_ is this coming from?” Kathryn’s voice was high and shocked, mouth slightly open. She paused a minute and calmed down, though her eyebrows still remained firmly north of their usual position. “Sorry. It’s just... Last I heard, Emma Swan was a depressed recluse who barely said two words to her parents, let alone anyone else.”

“She was,” Regina acknowledged. “And then her mother hired me to show her something different, which is what I’ve been doing. She’s been doing a lot better lately, laughing, letting me take her out in the town and with Henry...”

“Yeah, I remember you told me some of that,” Kathryn nodded. She took a sip from her cup, leaning forward eagerly across the table. “Go on.”

Regina breathed in. Her heart was thumping at the thought of saying it out loud. 

“And then I was reading to her the other night and we got to talking about relationships and...” The brunette trailed off. “She said these _things_ to me, Kat, compliments, but... As if they were all true. More than Robin and I said to each other in the last two years of marriage. The way she looked at me...” Regina paused again, taken back to that night, those green eyes. “It was like she believed _every word_ of it.”

“Okay,” Kathryn allowed cautiously. “Are you sure that was in a romantic way, though?”

“Yes,” Regina nodded. _God_. Saying it all out loud, to another person just made it feel more real. “There was a moment a few weeks ago as well. I’d brought her some of the bake sale leftovers and there was a look in her eyes that made me wonder. Then she started shouting at me to leave, like she was trying to push me away and a very helpful waitress told me right here that’s how she dealt with emotion.”

“Wow,” Kathryn blinked, mouth still slightly open. Regina let her digest the news for a moment, leaning back in her seat and taking another sip of coffee. The echo of her words hung in the air between them. After a while, her friend leaned a little more forward in her seat and cleared her throat. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Regina frowned.

Kathryn didn’t miss a beat. “Do you like her?”

“I...” Regina’s sentence broke off in the air, a flightless bird. She struggled for the right words to say. _Maybe. Possibly. Probably.  
Yes._

Kathryn found them for her. Shaking her head, she drew her features back into a self-deprecating frown. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She paused. “So are you going to keep working for her? You don’t want to lead her on.”

“Of course not, but I’m still staying on,” Regina told her, cold relief washing over her at not having to answer the blonde’s previous question at all, let alone honestly. “It might be nothing.”

“Right.” Kathryn nodded, hands wrapped around her steaming china teacup. “But you can’t stay if it gets too bad. That woman has suffered too much already.”

“I know,” Regina assured her. “It won’t.” 

“Okay.” Kathryn didn’t look convinced. Regina gave her a look, and she wiped her face clean, replacing her suspicion with a brighter  
smile. “So aside from that...”

“Things are going better.” Regina informed her, pleased to have set the subject aside. “Henry’s settled into school – he’s with a friend as we speak – and Robin and I have already worked out the holiday days he’ll spend in Portland with him. But enough about me. How are things with you and Frederick? I haven’t seen him for weeks.”

Regina watched Kathryn take the bait, sitting up to eagerly talk about her engagement and their wedding plans, conversation now turned thankfully away from her. As she watched her talk, something settled over the inside of her chest like dust, and it wasn’t until she was walking to pick up Henry afterwards that she figured out what it was – the honest realisation that half of what she’d said back there had been a pack of lies. _Do you like her?_ That she did. That there was _something_ , at least. 

Something that went both ways. 

-0-

There was frost on the grass outside, the first morning in two years Emma Swan ate breakfast with her parents. 

She’d had to wake up early for the nurses’ round anyway – it was August today, which put her in a good mood – and when Mary Margaret had come in to say hi to him and make sure everything was going okay, she hung back and asked if maybe Emma wanted to have breakfast up at the main house. David had cooked up a full English, apparently. And for some reason, even with that look that seemed to live full-time in the mayor’s eyes, Emma couldn’t think of a reason to say no. 

So that was how she found herself sitting at her usual space at the family table, in the house where she’d lived from the age of fourteen. The first home she ever knew. Hell, her first proper family meal took place around this table: Emma remembered that, like the day they’d finally signed the adoption papers, sixteen years ago, as if it were yesterday, every detail branded into her mind. 

Remarkably little had changed. 

Mary Margaret still sat at the end of the table, half-reading The Daily Mirror as she ate. David still cracked terrible jokes and held his knife and fork the wrong way around. They still looked at each other like a couple of teenagers in love. There were only a handful of details that were different; the shoots of grey in her mom’s dark hair, the new lines framing her dad’s eyes, the wheelchair she now depended on. 

Her dad helped her eat, and it didn’t feel as awful as it would have a few months ago. The food tasted good too, which surprised her. Not because the sheriff was a bad cook, but because ever since the accident all food had kind of tasted like cardboard to her. Today though, the bacon was hot and crispy and the fried tomatoes exploded flavour in her mouth. 

When they were finished, and her mom announced that she had to go down to the town hall to check over some forms, Emma wheeled herself over to see her off. Before she left, Mary Margaret smiled at her, genuinely, happily smiled at her. The new lines at her eyes crinkled, and something in her gaze was more honest than usual. “I’m glad you spent the morning with us.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, mustering her own weak smile surprisingly easily. “Me too.”

“I’ll see you later,” Mary Margaret promised, before giving David a quick kiss on the cheek and sliding on her coat. 

Once the front door had swung shut behind her, Emma began steeling herself for her next move. She’d been planning it all night. Now, she just needed to be brave enough to realise it. The blonde breathed in, fingertips twitching absently against the armrests of her chair. David was just going back through into the den. 

“Dad?” Emma called, breath catching in her throat as he turned around, pausing in the doorway. 

“Yeah?” He was staring at her expectantly, short golden hair full of sunlight from the window. Too casually, he rubbed the new stubble on his cheek with the back of his hand. Hope was glimmering in his wide eyes.

Emma breathed in, steeled herself. _Just say it_. She’d been avoiding her parents for so long, so obviously. They were the only people that were hurting as much as she did from the accident. When that car swerved so suddenly, she might have been the one that ended up in a wheelchair, but the impact hit them just the same. They knew, and that was why it hurt to much to spend time with them. _Just say it, you stupid crippled loser._

She opened her mouth, green eyes darting up to her dad’s. “Can I maybe get your help with something?”

Surprise washed over David’s face, but he nodded, smiling as genuinely as ever. “Sure.” His eyebrows drew slightly together. “What with?”

“It’s just this Christmas present I want to get someone.” Emma said, swallowing. She hoped she’d played it off convincingly. “From this little shop just off Main Street.” 

“Okay,” The sheriff nodded, mouth curled in a crooked smile. His eyes flicked over her face, once, twice, searching. “Who for?”

“Just... Somebody.” Emma felt smile crawl across her own mouth, piece by piece. Her dad narrowed his eyes at her, and she swallowed the grin that was threatening at the corners of her lips. Her heart thumped harder in her chest as she felt her face grow more serious. “But can you... not tell Mom?” She watched his face fall, and rushed to explain. “It’s just I know how she gets and I know she’s been doing really good lately, with me getting out more and I don’t want her to get over excited or build something up in her head that’s really not happening –”

“Understood.” David nodded, wide eyes full of painful understanding. He gave her a soft look, brow slightly creased. “But whatever you’re doing... Whatever you’re feeling, Emma, please just stick it out.” He swallowed; she watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Because I think it’s working.”

Emma stared up at him from her seat in the mechanical black chair, this man that had raised her since she was barely a teenager. Outside, the pale winter sun was climbing higher into the sky, filling the foyer with soft yellow light like nostalgia. 

She shook a stray blonde curl from her face and thought back to the first time she stood in this foyer, a scrap of a kid with an oversized backpack and a blanket in her arms, still in shock anyone would want to adopt her, let alone two people so nice. She thought back over years of breakfasts, of fights and hugs and wondered why she ever let them drift away in the first place. She wondered if it wasn’t too late now to get them back.

“Yeah,” was all Emma managed, accompanied by a weak, honest smile. Suddenly her throat felt thick with words she hadn’t been able to say for years, breath rising and falling like natural, like normal. She held her father’s eyes. “I’m trying. I am _trying_ now, Dad. I promise.” 

“I know, kid.” David nodded. His voice was soft. “I know.” 

By the time they got back, the heavy emotional stuff had dissipated into an easy kind of banter, the kind they’d had in the pre-accident days. It was nice, and weird, and nostalgic and it still made Emma feel guilty. But she’d got what she wanted to get. 

She wheeled herself back into her annex, gift bag hanging from the handle of her chair, and maybe it was the weird normality of the day and the energy in her family, but the minute she saw her phone sitting on her bedroom side she knew what she was going to do. She was shit scared, but when was she not? 

“Hey, Siri,” Emma said, activating the voice command setting. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. “Call Ruby Lucas.”

The phone vibrated to life on the side, mechanical voice announcing that it was, “ _Calling Ruby Lucas_ ,”

Emma waited with baited breath for one ring, for two. On the third, somebody picked up. 

“So she lives,” Ruby’s familiar voice was a shock to hear coming out of her phone, like a ghost. 

Emma swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Silence crackled down the line. 

Drawing a deep breath in, Emma opened her mouth again. When she spoke, her voice was strong. “Can we talk?”


	13. Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Huge thank you to everyone reading, commenting and generally spreading the love. 
> 
> To everyone asking, I can promise you Regina will be opening up very soon and hopefully it will be worth the wait. 
> 
> Meanwhile though, I think you’ll enjoy this one...

“You’re sure you’ve got everything?” Regina asked, for the fiftieth time since waking her son up, early as any school morning despite him breaking up for Christmas a few days ago. 

“Mom.” Henry gave her the most exasperated look that a nine year old could. “ _You_ packed my bag, and then you repacked it three times after that.”

“I know.” Regina nodded, and swallowed. She opened her mouth to say something, but all the words dried up in her mouth, so she knelt down to pull him into a tight hug before she did something irrational like cry or cancel the cab. She felt Henry awkwardly manage to put his arms around her neck, despite the confining backpack and the thick coat she’d made him wear, just in case. Regina sighed into the warm top of his head. He smelled like home and strawberry shampoo and Henry. The lump in her throat was growing. 

“Relax, Mom,” Henry said, as he disentangled himself from her. He flashed a reassuring toothy grin. “I’m gonna be fine. It’ll be fun.”

“I know,” Regina sighed, brow furrowing and she managed a smile. There was an ache in her chest that had been growing all week. “But it’s my job to worry about you.” 

“Dad used to have me by himself all the time when I was little,” Henry reminded her. 

_When we lived in the same state_ , Regina thought. 

She didn’t say anything. Henry was right – she was making too much of a fuss. But this was the first time they were going to be apart – _really_ apart – since the divorce. He’d softened, become so much more relaxed and easy to talk to since they moved, and in all honesty, so had she. She didn’t want to lose that. She didn’t want... 

_It’s only one week, Regina. Pull yourself together._ But the voice in her head was her own mother’s, which only made her feel worse.  
They’d been planning this visit ever since the move. From the day they found out the date of Henry’s Christmas holidays from school. She’d agreed: the first week he’d spend with Robin, the second – including Christmas day - with her. Skype on Christmas morning. A modern family holiday. 

“Okay,” Regina said, kneeling down on the porch to finish buttoning up his coat for him, despite his protests. It made her feel better to do one last piece of mothering before he left. She stayed on his level, hands on his skinny shoulders so she could meet his gaze. “Your father’s going to meet you at the station, okay? You text me when you’re with him. And text me when you’re both home.” A frown crossed her face, creasing her brow. “You know what, maybe I should go with you until Daddy gets there –”

“Mom, he’s already there waiting for me.” Henry reminded her. 

“I know.” Regina frowned, pursing her lips. She supposed that was true. Her hands were twitching. It took everything in her to keep from smoothing down Henry’s hair again. “I know, I just wish –” She bit her lip. She didn’t wish anything. Henry had to see his father, and to do that now he had to spend time away from her. Part of her knew she was being irrational. Henry had travelled a little on his own before, and he’d only be going to the station where Robin would meet him and accompany him the rest of the way. 

A loud honk from the road made them both look over. The taxi cab had arrived, idling along the curb, paintjob faded in the bright winter light. Regina’s heart sank, chest thumping with panic and love. 

“Okay,” Regina repeated, quickly pulling him into another tight hug. “Don’t forget to let me know when you’re together.”

“I won’t.” Henry told her seriously. His words were slightly muffled by the hug. “Promise.”

Regina forced herself to speak around the lump in her throat. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Henry grinned, before turning and running through the front garden. Regina tightened her jacket around herself, hurrying after him towards the cab.

The driver’s window was open, and he was leaning half out of it looking bored, but he looked up when he saw them approach. “Henry Mills?” He asked, glancing between the two of them. 

“Yup,” Henry nodded, already opening the door and clambering into the back. 

Regina stared after him hopelessly, watching him stow his bag on the seat next to him and plug his seat belt in. She breathed in, shook her hair off her face and did what she did when she was feeling too much all at once – she intimidated someone. Stalking back over to the drivers window, Regina crossed her arms over her chest. 

“His father will pay when you get there.” Regina told him sharply. “He’ll be waiting at the drop off point for you. If anything – and I mean _anything_ – happens to my son while he’s in your care, I can _personally_ guarantee it will be your _last_ drive as a licenced driver.” 

The driver looked slightly baffled. “Uh, I’m just the taxi driver –”

“Yes,” Regina nodded, straightening crisply and brushing off her coat. “And as long as my son arrives safely at his destination you will continue to be for the foreseeable future.”

“Got it,” The man frowned. He looked confused, but he’d still sufficiently understood the message, Regina thought.

She stood at the side of the road while he reversed carefully and drove off, watching Henry twist around and wave from the back seat with her heart sinking into her stomach. Regina sighed. _God._

It was going to be a long week. 

-0-

Emma’s nurse had been and gone early this morning, way before Regina got in, and her family was working early too, which gave her a few hours to herself. It was surprisingly nice to have some time off, to herself, just to think. 

So even though she had the radio on, Emma scooted her chair over to the window and listened to her own thoughts instead. Particularly her thoughts about the other day, when her first conversation with a friend since the accident had gone actually... Really well. 

When she’d returned from shopping with her dad, and called Ruby on a whim, she’d been preparing herself for something excruciatingly awkward, stunted, maybe even a little cold. Instead, it had been easy – after the initial awkwardness subsided – and nostalgic, and weirdly cathartic to talk to somebody else about everything. To tell Ruby about Regina, and her parents, and hear about all her old friends right back. They’d talked for more than an hour, and Emma had felt that calmness settling over her again, spreading out like warmth or a hint of happiness out from her chest. 

That was what convinced her that maybe, just maybe, Regina was right – maybe it wasn’t too late to mend all the bridges she’d burned in her anger. The bridges between her parents, her friends, her life, and herself. _And maybe..._ Emma hadn't said anything out loud, but maybe she could start to build new ones too. She’d woken up hopeful. 

The feeling stuck, so while the radio played on and the wind wound through the now leafless branches of the trees outside, Emma sat and listened and felt her anticipation about her – _plans_ – grow. Outside, there was crackly white frost crusting the lawn, and the flowers were all shut tight. 

It didn’t take long before she heard the annex door click open and Regina’s shoes tapping against the hallway floor. 

“Morning,” Emma called, leaning back in her chair. She heard Regina make a non-committal noise from the hallway, before she pushed into the room and hastily went about laying her bag and coat and keys down. Emma frowned, twisting her head as much as she could. Worry jumped in her chest. “Hey. You okay?”

“I just watched my son get in a taxi cab to go see his father and I’m not going to see him again until Monday.” Regina informed her briskly. “So what I really want is to find something to focus intensely on for the next two to three hours.” 

Emma pressed the button to spin her chair around, wheeling a little closer towards where the brunette was still hastily sorting and folding things that didn’t need to be sorted and folded, movements sharp and harsh. She would have given anything to be able to touch her. That always seemed the case, these days. Instead, she just nodded. “There’s a whole load of medical forms my mom hasn’t signed you on yet, if you thinking going through those might help?”

A smile broke over Regina’s face. “That’s perfect, thank you. In the office?”

“Yep.” Emma confirmed. “And it’s no problem. I got a whole bunch of crap for you to do if you’re really psyched out.”

“We’ll start with the paperwork,” Regina told her. “Just let me know when you want lunch.”

“Will do,” Emma replied, watching her straighten the cuffs of her shirt and make her way back out into the hallway. She was weirdly pleased with herself. 

While she did really want Regina to open up to her by her own choice, she had a feeling she’d know when that was supposed to happen. She wanted to tell her about her dad, and Ruby too, but that could wait. It could all wait. She could tell Regina didn’t want to talk now: she wanted to work everything out of her system, something Emma understood and was all to happy to provide.

From then on, the rest of the day passed scarily fast, until the pale yellow light was slowly fading behind the horizon outside the window, and Regina’s working day was coming to a close. She was running out of time. When she re-entered the room for the first time since lunch – presumably to gather her things – Emma used her adjustable remote to turn the TV off, mouth dry, heart thudding like crazy. 

_Now or never_.

Regina, for her part, seemed more at ease than she had been this morning, but she didn’t say anything as she started putting her stuff back in her bag. Emma cleared her throat. Regina glanced over, eyebrow slightly raised. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Emma managed, after a while. She swallowed, anticipation writhing in her stomach. Her green eyes darted up to meet Regina’s. “I wanted to give you something, actually.”

“Oh?” Regina arched a perfect eyebrow. She looked surprised, and a little intrigued. 

“Yeah,” Emma breathed. She inhaled. She exhaled. _Easy as one, two, three_. “Before you go. It’s kind of an early Christmas present. ‘Cause I know you’ll spend _actual_ Christmas with the kid, and I know I’ll see you before then but I just... wanted you to have it now, I guess.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Regina told her obligatorily. 

“Actually, I think I did.” Emma replied. She paused, listening to her own heart beat in her chest and her temples. God, her mouth was dry. Was her mouth usually so dry? “It’s on the cabinet.”

“Okay,” Regina said warily, smile quirking at the corners of her mouth as she spun on her heels and clicked slowly, precisely over to the cabinet. Emma watched her face change at the sight of the little square box. Her mom had helped her wrap it, tying it with one of her fancy satin ribbons. 

“Open it,” Emma urged. 

Beyond the glass of the window, the riot of colour brought in with the sunset had drained away, leaving just a clear pink sky full of soft light. It cast smudged grey shadows over the walls, but it was the kind of light that made everything softer and prettier, the kind of light that erased every hard edge it touched. 

It had been years since Emma had last seen anything in that light by her own choice. 

She watched raptly as the brunette lifted the box into her hands, brown eyes soft and curious. Regina turned back to her as she gently tugged one end of the ribbon, pulling it free and smoothing it between her fingers. She laid it carefully on the side, and then her fingers turned back to delicately lift the lid. 

Emma held her breath. She waited, counting her heartbeats like the seconds between thunder and lightening. _One Mississippi_. She swallowed hard, trying to commit every detail of this woman's face to memory. God, was this weird? Was she making it weird? _Two Mississippi._

This was probably wildly inappropriate. Emma's tongue darted out to wet her lips, heart racing. This was probably weird. _Three Mississippi._

_Bang._

“Oh,” Regina said, very quietly. Emma watched her staring down into the little velvet box in her hands, the earrings nestled inside. Her lips were parted a long time before she spoke. “You remembered.”

“Yeah,” Emma confessed, eyes unable to leave her. “I kind of remember everything about you.”

Her words hung in the charged air.

Regina looked up sharply from the earrings in her hands to meet Emma’s gaze. Her eyes were wide, mouth open. She wore an expression of soft shock that made Emma’s lungs remember how to be lungs again. Disbelief was clearly written across her face. Then she blinked. Once, twice. She blinked with a slight shake of her head, as if she was remembering something. 

Emma’s breath caught in her throat as she watched her walk closer, gaze stuck to the floor, heels clicking softly. She was hit by the smell of perfume first, and then the heat of her body. Her gaze leapt up to meet Regina’s deep honey eyes, tongue darting out to wet her lips. _Could this... Could she actually..._

Looking at her, feeling the energy between them bubble and burst, Emma swore the anticipation was the best she’d felt for _fucking_ years. Hell, it was the _most_ she’d felt for years. She couldn’t fathom feeling more. 

Regina leaned down and placed her hands lightly on the armrests of Emma’s chair. 

She thanked God she had enough movement in her neck to lean forward.

Emma thought about everything that had passed the other woman’s lips. Snark and smiles and snappy defences. She thanked God she enough movement in her neck to lean forward.

Now Regina’s lips were soft, and they tasted of apples. 

For a second, they stayed like that, two warm pairs of lips brushing gently, gently. Barely there. For the first time since the accident, Emma didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to move ever again. As happens sometimes, a moment hovered and settled and remained for much more than a moment. And sound and time and movement dropped from the world and everything was perfectly still for much, much more than a moment. Her heart was beating. Regina's lips were warm. The soft pastel sunset sprayed through the room around them. She was scared to open her eyes. 

Gradually time awakened again, and Emma felt something surge in her chest, and she leaned forward fast enough to recapture full lips in another kiss. More forceful, this time, more real, mouth moving out of sheer will, determination to not let this end. There was something frantic and painful in her chest, terrified she might wake up. Regina’s dark hair fell around them like a curtain. Her lips were warm and soft and she could feel her pulse jump under her skin. Emma could feel tears burning behind her closed eyes.

Because it didn’t feel like lightning or fire or any other dumbass romantic metaphor. It didn’t feel like something big – it felt like the moment before. The quiet, the calm, the first day you feel happy again and you don't even understand what that is or why. It felt like the start of something.

Regina pulled away first, ducking her head to break the kiss and breathing in sharply. Her hands were still on the armrests, her face still inches away from Emma’s. Close enough for foreheads to brush and noses to bump and eyelashes to cast shadows over cheeks. 

“Hi,” Emma breathed. 

A small coy smile twitched over Regina’s face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Emma repeated, not trusting herself to say anything else. She was weirdly aware of her heart beating in her chest. For the first time since she could remember, that wasn’t... bad. _This_ wasn’t bad. _That just happened,_ Emma thought, _that just happened!_ Slowly, definitely, she felt a smile curl over her mouth, spread into a full on cheesy, teeth-showing, chest-buzzing grin. 

Regina stepped back one foot at a time, fingers twisting together in front of her silk shirt in the first open display of nervousness Emma had ever seen on her. She opened her mouth cautiously, corners pricking into a hint of a smile. “Emma...”

“I know,” Emma said, eyes fixed on hers. She rushed to speak first. “But before you say anything, or tell me you don’t know what this is and I agree because I _really don’t_ , I want you to know I would have done that a long time ago, if I could.”

“Okay.” Regina bit her lip to suppress a smile. Her eyes darted back up to her. 

“Can we just leave it at that?” Emma proposed, words dropping off into the vacuum between them. She felt light, full of helium, like she might be about to drift away. “We can talk properly tomorrow. But I’d like to just leave it there, for tonight.”

Regina breathed in, and after a moment she nodded. “Tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Emma found she didn’t have to force the truth out, for once. It just came. “That’s kind of everything I’ve been dreaming about for the past few weeks, and I _know_ this is _so_ much more complicated than if you were just a woman that I’d met in a bar and asked on a date. I know you’ve got a kid. I know you’re focusing on him. I know you’re just getting out of a marriage, and I know I’m going to be stuck in this _goddamned wheelchair_ for the rest of my life.” She swallowed, ducking her head and meeting Regina’s eyes. Her tongue jumped to wet her lips. “But I don’t want to think about all that for the next few hours.”

“I know,” Regina told her, and Emma knew she did. Her gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t either.”

“So...” Emma trailed off. She really wished she could fidget with her fingers. That would make life a whole lot easier. “Can I walk –” she winced. “ _Wheel_ – you to the door or something?” 

Regina swallowed and nodded gently, wrists crossed over her stomach. “I think that would be fine.”

“Okay,” Emma breathed happily, for once not having to force the strength to press the buttons on her chair, manoeuvring herself across the room while Regina picked up her earrings box and stowed it carefully inside her bag. 

They stayed stuck in a fizzing, crackling, bubbling silence as they made their way out into the hallway, Emma’s chair clicking and whirring against the hardwood floor. She was supressing a smile, a laugh, a scream. God, this felt... This _felt_. Emma had forgotten what that was like. 

When they reached the front door, Regina opened it and turned back to her, hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. The rush of cool evening air washed over them. The moonlight was reflecting off Regina’s hair, her dark shining eyes. “Until tomorrow.” She told her lightly. 

“’Til tomorrow,” Emma repeated, face beginning to hurt from smiling. 

She stayed in the hallway once Regina had left, heat crawling up her neck, heart racing like something alive and real, grin curling over her cheeks. 

-0-

Regina had to fight the urge to laugh as she stepped out of the mayor’s house and onto the street. The fresh evening air was cool against her skin. 

She stared at the gum-speckled pavement as she walked, heels clicking against the concrete, handbag swinging at her wrist. There was something rising from her stomach and zipping through her veins like electricity. She felt like she was nineteen years old again.  
_What the hell have I done?_ Regina kept thinking, over and over, but it didn’t seem scary. Maybe it would in the morning. She didn’t know. She just knew, walking under the orange light of the streetlamps, she felt impossibly light. Buoyant. There was a sparkling feeling in her chest. 

She reached her house without any memory of walking there, and once she’d turned the key and pushed inside, she leaned back against the closed front door, bag and keys hanging from her wrists, and made herself breathe out slowly into the dark empty foyer. _Why do I have the feeling this is about to ruin my whole life?_

Regina was fighting to keep the smile off her face even as she trudged upstairs. 

After all, she had all of tomorrow to worry. Tonight was for dreaming.


	14. Questions and Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow has arrived, and with it the most awkward conversation I’ve ever written, but the next chapter is a personal favourite of mine, so it will all be worth it, promise. 
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for all the love!

By the time Regina woke up the next morning, her stomach was in knots. 

For the first time in what seemed like years, she woke up to the blaring alarm clock, not before it. A pounding headache was already gathering behind her temples. She sighed, sitting up heavily in bed and pushing back the covers. By the time her bare feet touched the carpet, her chest was tight. 

Regina tried to push her mounting nerves out of her head as she went through the motions of an ordinary weekday morning; showering, straightening her hair, applying makeup like war paint. It took longer than usual to decide what to wear. She found herself trying on several different versions of the same outfit, feeling increasingly ridiculous. It wasn’t as if this was a _date_. She was just going to work. _God_. Eventually, having decided on what to wear – black skirt, red silk mix blouse Emma had complimented once, the earrings from last night – Regina forced herself to eat some breakfast before ignoring the thoughts buzzing through her mind and setting off for the mayor’s house, coat wrapped tightly around her.

It was silly – she hadn’t felt like this over anything for such a long time, let alone anything... romantic. The fact that Henry was currently in Portland with Robin didn’t help either: it only gave her another thing to worry about, no matter how many excited texts Henry sent her saying he was having a good time.

_Stop worrying about your son spending quality time with his father_ , Regina snapped at herself. And then added, _particularly after you just_ kissed _the depressed quadriplegic woman you get paid to take care of._ When she’d said she wanted a fresh start, this wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. 

Regina kept her head down as she made the walk to work, heels clicking against the pavement. She solidly ignored the feeble attempts at hello a few passers-by made. Emma was right, this town was too friendly for its own good. How the blonde woman had handled growing up here was beyond her. Before she even had time to run through what she was going to say in her head, the mayor’s house had come into view. Regina swallowed hard, breathed in and perfected her posture. She was Regina Mills. She could handle anything. 

She unlocked the gate with her heart beating hard, and made her way sharply through the frosty garden, noting how the flowers were already curled shut against the cold. Regina swallowed and reached for the annex doorknob. It was already open. Regina pushed inside, immediately hit by a welcome wave of warmth from the central heating. She took her time walking down the hallway to Emma’s room, where she could hear the TV turned down low. 

She took a deep breath before opening that door, like a deep-sea diver about to go under. 

Inside, Emma was sitting in her wheelchair facing away from the breakfast show on TV, but her head jerked around the minute Regina stepped through into the room. She was wearing sweats and odd socks, and her blonde hair was drying curly over her shoulders. Regina swallowed, and then broke out into a smile without her brain’s consent. 

“Hi,” Regina breathed. 

-0-

“Hi.” Emma repeated, brain empty. The words took her back to last night.

Regina paused in the doorway, looking unsure. When she leaned forward to hook her bag off her arm, her dark hair shifted against her neck and Emma caught a glimpse of her earrings – _the_ earrings – glinting against olive skin. It put a weak smile on her face.  
Regina cleared her throat. Her dark eyes drifted to the floor for a moment before lifting back up to Emma, mouth open. “We should talk.” 

“Yeah.” Emma agreed, exhaling slowly. _Get a grip, you crippled loser_. She hesitated, and then steeled herself. “Come on, you wanna sit down?”

Nodding, the brunette moved slowly across the room, heels clicking softly on the floor, bag and coat draped over her wrist. She took a long time placing them carefully down on the side before breathing in and sitting down elegantly on the end of Emma’s bed, legs crossed. Regina cleared her throat loudly. “So.”

“Yeah.” Emma heard herself say again. She was trying not to look at Regina until she got a grip - why was it now she knew what it was like to kiss Regina, any minute spent _not_ kissing Regina suddenly seemed a colossal waste of time?

“Emma.” Regina said clearly, snapping her out of her trance. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know.” Emma confessed. She paused, and then turned to look sideways at where Regina was sat, looking at her. She cracked a smile. “I know I like you.”

“I like you too.” Regina replied, with a hint of a smile. 

Warmth flooded through her. Emma opened her mouth, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Cold winter light poured in between the open curtains, pale and yellow, a stark contrast to the warmth that had been building inside her room all day. “But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” Emma explained. She took a moment, letting the words build up in her head before letting them spill out, rushed. “I know you’re just getting out of a – what was it? _Eight_ year relationship – and I really don’t want to screw things up with you and Henry and –”

“Emma, stop.” Regina told her softly. Emma breathed in, glancing sideways at her from under her hair. The brunette gave a slight shake of her head. “Let’s tackle one thing at a time here. We can take the morning, answer some questions, figure everything out.” She turned to her, with an encouraging look. “Slowly.”

“Yeah, okay, sorry,” She sighed heavily. “I guess I’m not used to this _feelings_ crap.”

“It’s okay.” Regina assured her, tiny whisper of a smile crawling back into her voice. “Firstly, let’s just confirm that there _are_ feelings.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ve liked you like that for a while. Not, like, totally consciously. Just the last couple of weeks.”

“That’s the same for me,” Regina said carefully. “But I didn’t realise until the other night. When I was reading to you and you said those things to me –”

“Yeah.” Emma nodded, heat crawling up here neck. “And, um, I know it’s not really important, like, compared, but have you ever... Like, been with a woman before? ‘Cause you know _I_ like girls but you had a _husband_ and I didn’t think –”

“It’s not one or the other with me.” Regina explained. “I had a brief thing with a woman at college before I met Robin, that was it. But gender isn’t an issue for me or anyone around me.”

“Okay, that’s cool.” Emma told her encouragingly. In the pause that followed, she swore she could feel her own heartbeat thudding in her temples, she swore it was loud enough for Regina to hear. _No point waiting_. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, Emma cleared her throat. “So um, do you mind me asking about... Robin?” She paused. “How did that...?”

“We met in college. We fell in love. After we graduated I moved back to Portland with him for his job, got my own job, had Henry.” Regina recited all of this with her hands folded in her lap, detachedly, as if it had all happened to someone else. Emma stared at her, wishing with every bone in her stupid, goddamn, useless body that she could reach out and touch her. Regina’s lips tightened. “We fell out of love maybe two, three years ago.”

“And... Are you cool now?” Emma asked. Her green eyes flicked attentively over the woman sat on the end of the bed. 

Regina shot her a look that Emma struggled to read. It made something in Emma’s chest flinch – it reminded her of the early days, when she thought everything about Regina was so calculated and precise, designed to keep everyone out. Maybe Emma had wheeled her way through the cracks, but, she realised suddenly, that still might be the case for everyone else. As if to emphasize her thoughts, Regina’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I don’t regret divorcing him, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s not...” Emma trailed off, wondering what she’d been about to say. She grimaced awkwardly down at her hands, limp and useless in her lap. The pale winter light fell across the veins in her wrist. “It’s fine if you don’t want to be with anyone yet, that’s all I’m saying –”

“I don’t –” Regina snapped, breaking off and standing up sharply. Emma glanced down at where her carer’s hands were twisting at her sides – she was clearly struggling with how to say it. Sunlight struck her dark hair, the zip on her skirt. “I just – it’s not him, it’s Henry. If Henry’s happy. That’s all I – that’s all –”

“Regina,” Emma said softly. 

Regina huffed, turning to face her with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her mouth was set in a hard line, jaw clenched. “I’m overreacting.” She said, as if stating a fact. 

“Hey,” She heard herself saying, seeking Regina’s unyielding eyes. _Too much of a hero_. She’d never wanted to move her legs and body and get the fuck up out of that chair, that prison, so much as she did then. Emma swallowed, pushing her own issues back. Right now, she needed to focus on Regina. “Aren’t you the one always telling me not to invalidate my feelings?”

“I’m really not in the mood to be psychoanalysed,” Regina told her. She sighed, tucking a dark wave of hair behind her ear. “I just want to clarify what we’re doing here.”

Emma paused, and after a long time, without her brain’s consent, confessed something. “You know Henry thinks you’re a superhero, right?”  
Regina’s head jerked up, brown eyes flickering over her. “What?”

“Your kid sat over there and told me he thinks you’re like a superhero, because you always help everyone else. And he told me he thinks you sometimes forget you might need help too.” Emma relayed honestly, looking into Regina’s eyes the whole time. 

“God,” Regina breathed after a while, going over to sit on the end of Emma’s bed and dropping her head into her hands. 

Emma looked at her objectively, studying the slant of her neck and the shift in her eyes. Like a magnet, she was wheeling herself closer without even thinking. “No, Regina, he didn’t mean it in a _bad_ way. I think he just wants you to know you don’t have to be _indestructible_ all the time.” She swallowed, as Regina looked up at her, eyes wide and confused. Emma tried to smile reassuringly. “You just got divorced, moved the other side of the country and got a job wheeling my annoying ass around. Not to mention whatever _this_ is.” She felt an incredulous smile ghost over her mouth. “You’re entitled to worry sometimes.”

Regina’s gaze flickered down to her lap. After a long, loud pause, she cleared her throat and opened her mouth. “My mother used to tell me the exact opposite of that.”

“Your mother’s wrong,” Emma told her, not missing a beat. Part of her wanted to press further, ask about this mysterious mother she always seized up talking about, but she could see how hard it was for Regina, so she made herself save it. Instead, she tried to lighten the mood. “Anyway, you’re a grown ass woman. You know how you feel.”

“I do, that’s the problem!” Regina interjected. She exhaled a long, low breath. “I didn’t love Robin. Not for the last few years. I just so badly wanted it to work for Henry and... I remember just sitting at dinner parties with his friends and pretending so hard that I felt the same as I did when we were twenty two.” She bit her lip, downcast gaze reflecting the rising sun. “And now I’m finally away from all that, and I just...”

“Yeah?” Emma pressed gently, heart beating. Her mouth was completely dry. 

Regina shook her head suddenly, running a hand through her hair. “All due respect, Emma, but we’re supposed to be sorting our stuff out, not mine.”

“Yeah, well, we might not be in a relationship, but they’re kind of the same thing to me.” Emma told her. It took a lot of effort not to smile at the thought. “And I don’t know about you but I want you to be able to talk about your stuff.” 

“Okay,” Regina said quietly, evenly. She blinked, mouth open. Emma could almost see her internal conflict. After what seemed like a decade, she finally spoke. “I know you haven’t let yourself feel things for a long time, but the truth is I haven’t either. Not for anything other than Henry. It’s scary.”

“ _Fucking_ scary,” Emma agreed. She looked sideways at Regina, blonde hair falling against her cheek. Just that little piece of honesty from his woman who was so heavily guarded made her proud. It made her feel special, like she hadn’t done for years. Emma suppressed a smile. “And... weird.”

“And unnerving,” Regina added, doing that thing she did when she wasn’t quite smiling but looked like she might be thinking abut it. 

“Confusing!” Emma contributed. She could feel a laugh bubbling up in her chest. 

“Disarming,” Regina nodded. Her mouth was twitching into a smile.

“Hard,” Emma did laugh that time, with her head tilting back and her hair falling back from her face. It was just the slightest, happiest rough-voiced peal, but it made Regina’s chest tighten and melt at the same time.

“Addictive,” Regina finished softly, not even trying to suppress the curl at the corners of her mouth, the new rhythm of her heart between her ribs.

“Hell yeah,” Emma breathed, and then Regina watched the humour drain from her still-smiling face as she paused and swallowed. “So Henry... If we were to move forward with this, how would he...?”

Regina opened her mouth, eyebrow raised. “Henry asked me the other day why I don’t go on dates.” 

Emma snorted. “Oh my god.”

“He likes you.” Regina told her earnestly. “Of course, I wouldn’t be able to jump into anything. I’m not ready to be a girlfriend again.”

“Of course,” Emma rushed to assure her. “And I’m not expecting you to. To be honest, neither am I. I think it’s pretty safe to say neither of us really know what we’re doing here. So maybe we just carry on as normal and see what happens.”

“Yes. Yes, I’d like that.” Regina smiled. “And as for this being my job...” The brunette bit her lower lip, brown eyes meeting the quadriplegic’s green. “I’m happy to keep coming in and doing this. In fact, it might help my cause. If that’s alright with you?”

“Definitely!” Emma nodded. “No tags. Normal. See how it goes. As long as we’re honest with each other, I think we’re going to be fine.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat and breathed in, willing herself to be brave before lifting her head and turning towards Regina. “We’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thank you.” Regina told her, voice soft and low.

“For what?”

“Just for being... I don’t know.” Regina’s warm brown eyes darted up to meet Emma’s in the thin morning light. As a faint smile ghosted over her lips, she leaned forward and took one of Emma’s limp white hands between her own. “You.”

She let go almost immediately, but Emma damn near disintegrated. It didn’t matter she couldn’t feel it – the sight alone was enough to keep her going. She could still barely believe this was happening to her. To be perfectly honest, she was a little scared that this might be a dream, that she might be lying in a hospital bed, and Regina might disappear when she woke up.  
But there was an advantage to that: there was nothing to be afraid of in dreams. 

“That said,” Emma breathed in, carried by a rush of adrenaline or endorphins or sheer fucking insanity. “Would it be okay if I asked you on a date at some point? A friendly, no-pressure date. Just to see how that would go.”

Regina bit back a smile. “I think that would be more than okay.”

“Well then... You should know I have full intention of doing this properly,” Emma informed the brunette seriously, shooting her a sideways grin. 

“Oh?” Regina arched an eyebrow. The pale yellow sunlight from the window had fallen across her face, eyelashes casting shadows across her cheeks. 

“Hell yeah,” Emma nodded. “Just ‘cause I’m stuck in this piece of crap, doesn’t mean I can’t show a lady a good time.”

Regina laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.” 

“So,” Emma began. God, she was as nervous as a teenager asking someone to prom for a first date. In some respects she was just as new to this, just as inexperienced and unused to this. It had been so long. And with the chair... She might as well be eighteen again. Emma paused, catching Regina’s eye and raising an eyebrow. “In the spirit of keeping it natural but doing it properly, the annual Christmas charity ball is on Friday. I wasn’t gonna go but it’s really important to my mom, and if I had a certain carer – a certain _friend_ – as my date I’d definitely enjoy it a lot more...” 

Emma turned to Regina as much as she could, eyebrow raised hopefully over puppy-dog eyes. 

Regina’s smile was slow and gradual. It was melting chocolate. It was a kick-ass guitar riff. It was everything good in the world. Her eyes met Emma’s, dark and dancing. “I think that’s some charity I can get involved in.”


	15. Champagne Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m not going to lie, writing this chapter made me feel warm and fuzzy inside and I hope it does you too. 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone spreading the love!

“So, let me get this straight,” Kathryn was saying, from where she was sat on Regina’s bed, flicking through a Pottery Barn catalogue. “You’re going on a _date_ with _Emma Swan_?” 

“Yes,” Regina confirmed, not looking away from the contents of her wardrobe. Outside her window, the sky was already beginning to turn pale grey. Winter had sent the evenings in early. She frowned, leaning in to push aside an old Vera Wang she hadn’t worn since graduation. _God, why do I still have some of these?_

“I just –” Kathryn shook her head. “I don’t know. I just didn’t think your fresh start would involve dating a woman. Let alone _that_ woman.”

“ _Kat_.” Regina shot a look over her shoulder, turning back to rifle through her extensive dress collection and feeling increasingly like a teenager going on her first date. It was ridiculous. “You and I were roommates when Mal and I had our fling,” She reminded her friend absently, frowning at the rack of clothes.

“Yeah, and she was _weird_.” Kathryn muttered. “But that was college. That stuff happens in college all the time. This is serious. And... _Soon_. Anyway, you said you didn’t even like her that way!”

“No, I didn’t.” Regina didn’t look away from the grey dress shirt she was currently scrutinising. “You asked if I did and then brushed over it. _Anyway_ , it’s not a proper date and we’re definitely not _dating_. We’re not putting any pressure on it.”

“Regina, come on,” Kathryn’s voice was high and still held a little note of surprise. She could hear her turning the catalogue pages. 

“Kathryn,” Regina spun around, back against the open closet door. “I know it’s really soon after Robin, but I’m telling you, I... _do_ like her.” She paused. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Not even about Robin.”

She watched Kathryn’s face soften. “Okay,” her friend flashed a quick smile. “Okay. Sorry. You know I just want you to be happy.”

“And I appreciate that.” Regina assured her. “But what I would really appreciate right now is some outfit advice. Why do you think I called you? You’ve been to this Christmas charity thing before, haven’t you?”

“Fred and I went last year,” Kathryn confirmed, easing herself off of the bed and tossing the catalogue down. “We’re only not going tonight because his parents are in town.”

“Right,” Regina turned back to the contents of her wardrobe. “So how formal is _formal_?” She frowned, quoting the invitation Emma had given to her the day after their talk. She’d said she wanted her to have all the information. 

“Pretty formal, I guess,” Kathryn said, materialising at Regina’s shoulder. She was squinting into the depths of the wardrobe. “Like, too formal for this –” The blonde woman leaned over her to pick out a grey day dress she’d had forever, twisting around to toss it on the bed. “But not formal enough for this.” That was punctuated by the soft thud of another dress hitting the coverlet. 

“Got it.” Regina nodded. Then, breathing in, she turned around to lean against the wardrobe doorframe and catch Kathryn’s eye. “Thank you, for helping me out here. You know I’m out of practise with... Dating.”

“’Gina.” Kathryn raised her eyebrows, smiling reassuringly. “You’re going to be fine. You just need to relax. You said you were taking it slow, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Just have fun. It’s actually a cool event, and it’s for a good cause.” Kathryn paused, mouth open. All of a sudden, her blue eyes lit up. “Do you still have that black dress you wore for Will and Ana’s wedding?” 

Regina felt her brow furrow. “I don’t – maybe. Are you sure that’s still –”

“It’s timeless!” Kathryn exclaimed sharply. “So you go find that while I get myself a drink and wait to see my creation come to life.”

“I’ll try it,” Regina told her, before her friend hurried downstairs to the kitchen. “But I’m not promising anything.”

After all, she’d had a back-up outfit planned for days, even if she was still on the fence about it. Despite the taking it slow, Regina couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling in her chest as she rifled through rows of barely-worn dresses and shirts. She kept glancing at her wristwatch – it was six thirty. The ball didn’t officially start until nine, but Regina would be arriving with the mayor and her family who had to be there early to prepare. Which gave her two hours to get dressed, do her hair, make up, Skype Henry and get to the mayor’s house. _Plenty of time_ , Regina told herself, but her heart kept jumping anyway. 

Eventually, she found the dress Kathryn meant, quickly unhooking the hanger from the rail and surveying the black material intently. She’d hadn’t worn it for years, but... _It can’t hurt to try_ , Regina supposed. She took it over to the full-length mirror, untying her robe and folding it on the end of the bed before facing down the dress. Regina was pleased to note the zipper still went up easily enough, and it _felt_ like it fit okay... She frowned, smoothing down the front and turning sideways in the mirror to examine the back. 

“Yes!” 

Regina turned around. Kathryn was standing in the doorway of her room with a glass of water and a huge smile on her face. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Kathryn repeated. “That’s the one. Now get your make up out and give that woman something to smile about. God knows she’s needed it.”

-0-

“Emma, stop moving.” 

“There’s something I don’t hear a lot,” Emma cracked, with a grin. _God, I’m a dork_. “It tickles.”

“It should!” Her mother exclaimed. Emma cracked an eye open enough to squint at her, watching her narrow and widen her green eyes the same way she presumably wanted Emma too, manoeuvring the eyeshadow brush fastidiously over her skin. 

Emma huffed, stretching her neck awkwardly against the back of her chair. When she’d wheeled herself up to the main house and asked Mary Margaret to help her find something to wear an hour ago, she had not thought it through. Not only had she done as asked, she’d also spent about ten years enthusiastically curling Emma’s hair, and then decided now was a perfect time to live out her old make up artist fantasies.

It was kind of torture having to keep her face still when she’d been internally screaming for the past two days, but there you go. Her heart was lodged firmly in her throat, her stomach was writhing and her head was buzzing with a million things she didn’t quite know how to say. 

“There,” Her mother announced, placing the brush back in its pot. There was an immense look of pride on her face: Emma could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. “You’re all done.” 

“Cool,” Emma breathed awkwardly. “As long as you did what you said. I only wanted it like, natural. Like how I used to have it.”

“It’s exactly how you used to have it,” The mayor told her, voice high and strained. Emma watched the loaded smile stretch across her mom’s face. The implications were obvious. _It’s exactly how I used to look._

God, this was weird. Part of her still felt like she was playing pretend, the way she did when she was a little kid, running around shouting, _look at me, I’m knight_. _Look at me, I’m a dragon_. Emma swallowed, glancing over at the mirror behind her mom. She barely recognized the person she saw – a person with bright eyes and no dark circles, a person with long, healthy hair and skin. _Look at me, I’m happy._

“Emma,” Mary Margaret breathed. “I can’t tell you how much it means to us that you’re coming tonight.”

“I know.” Emma nodded, smiling around the lump in her throat. “I know.”

“We all ready in here?” They both looked up to see her dad sauntering through the door wearing one of his old suits and fiddling with his cuff links. David glanced between them, too-big grin spreading over his face. “Well, don’t we all clean up nicely?” 

Emma watched her mom break out into a smile – maybe the first real smile she’d smiled for months – and just for a second swore everything was going to be fine. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

“Oh!” Mary Margaret exclaimed. “That’ll be Regina. Emma, wait here – I’ll send her through while your _very_ handsome father and I get the ramp ready for you in the car.”

“Okay,” Emma said, even though she was pretty sure she was having an aneurism.

Her dad caught her eye and winked. “Go get her, kiddo.”

“Okay,” Emma repeated, almost definitely sure she was having an aneurism. 

And then he was jogging out to the car and she could hear her mom opening the door and exchanging _hellos_ and obligatory compliments with Regina in the doorway. _Oh my god_ , Emma thought, _I am dying. I am actually dying._ Her mouth was dry, her stomach was flipping like a fish out of water and she was pretty sure she hadn’t breathed for a few minutes but it was also simultaneously the best she’d felt for years. 

“Well, David and I are just going to prepare the car for Emma,” She could hear Mary Margaret chirping. “So if you want to go wait with her she’s in the living room.”

Emma forced herself to breathe in and out slowly, feeling the rush of anticipation give way to something else. Something new and old and exciting, that she felt from the pit of her stomach to the back of her neck. She drummed her fingers awkwardly against her armrest.  
Then the living room door opened and Regina stepped inside and Emma’s breath caught in her throat. 

She managed to match Regina’s smile, but she could feel her mouth hanging open a little as she raked her eyes over the woman in front of her. There was no point trying not to gawp: she was wearing a short black dress that looked like it cost as much as Emma’s goddamn specialist chair, paired with elegant black heels, slimmer and fancier than her everyday ones. When Emma’s gaze reached her face, she swore she nearly died. She was smiling at her like she was normal and they were happy and everything was going to be okay, and her lips were painted red. 

“Wow,” Emma breathed. “You look...” She swallowed. “I don’t...”

“I hope the ends of these sentences are good,” Regina remarked lightly, corners of her mouth still quirked up into a smile.

“Yeah!” Emma enthused, heat flushing over her cheeks. She wished she could stop sounding like a teenage boy in a bad movie. “Great, gorgeous, I mean... You’re beautiful.” 

Regina tucked an expertly-curled wave of hair coyly behind her ear, and Emma could see the garnet earrings glimmering against her olive skin. “Well, I could say the same for you.”

Emma grinned like she hadn’t since she was a little kid. “You don’t have to sound so surprised!”

“I’m not,” Regina told her, nearly laughing. “ _Believe me._ But I’m glad you made an effort.” She paused. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Emma said, but she was still smiling. She couldn’t really imagine _not_ smiling right now, and given that a few months ago she couldn’t imagine ever smiling, that was pretty good. She wasn’t really a big dress person, even before the accident, preferring nice jeans and a fancy shirt for formal wear. But her mom had insisted, and for once, Emma wasn’t going to let her down. It was a dark blue cocktail-length affair, better than some options she knew Mary Margaret had lurking in her closet. 

Outside, someone honked the car’s horn. Probably her dad. 

Emma made a face. “Is it weird that our first date is gonna be chaperoned by my parents and about a hundred guests?”

“Probably,” Regina allowed. “But did you really expect this to be _normal_?”

“You have a point,” Emma smiled. She could hear her parents talking in the driveway, waiting for them. “Well, we should probably go join them.” She paused, raising an eyebrow melodramatically. “My lady, your chariot awaits.” Emma grinned, nodding down at her chair. “Hop on.”

“You can’t be serious.” Regina stated. 

“I’m not letting you wheel me around all night,” Emma informed her. “So either you hop on or you don’t come.” 

Regina stared at her. “I’m your carer, it’s literally my _job_ to wheel you around.”

“Tonight you’re my date,” Emma informed her earnestly, with a pleased smile stuck on her mouth. “And that means it’s _my_ job to be your knight in shining wheelchair.”

“You’re really going to make me sit on your lap all night in front of your parents and half the town?”

“Yep.”

Regina raised an eyebrow, shaking her head incredulously. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Regina Mills,” Emma told her, a thousand butterflies trapped in her chest. “I love it when you talk sixty-year-old to me.”

“Idiot,” Regina muttered under her breath, but before Emma had a chance to marvel over her genius plan, the brunette had dropped down into the chair with her, legs against hers. Emma nearly disintegrated (or burst out laughing like a goddamn toddler) at the physical contact – or rather the sight of it. She could feel her warm breath against her shoulder. 

“Hold on.” Emma murmured, awkward fingers fumbling to press down on the arm buttons. The backing-track mechanical buzz surrounded them as Emma ‘steered’ the chair out through the foyer to the open door and down the porch ramp outside.

Regina caught her eye as they wheeled out into the cool evening air, stars reflected in her brown eyes. Their faces were put impossibly close by the position. It made Emma’s heart dance and her mouth taste like hope.

“See,” Emma grinned breathlessly. “Who said you had to move your limbs to have game?”

“Nobody who knew what they were talking about.” Regina agreed lightly, with a derisive shake of her head. 

They exchanged another smile as Emma manoeuvred them over to the car. It was more of a minivan kind of deal, one that was easily converted for wheelchair access and ramps. Her parents were currently leaning against it and laughing like a pair of teenagers, even in their grown-up finery. It made her smile even wider. 

“Hey!” Emma called, as they buzzed over the driveway. Though the winter evening was chilly, her skin was warm enough to make her forget. “Someone gonna help me in?”

Her mother’s face broke out into the biggest smile – and Emma didn’t realise why until she walked over to them, pausing first to say something to Emma’s dad in a low, breathless voice. Emma just about heard it. “ _David_ ,” Mary Margaret breathed. “She’s talking like _Emma_ again.”

Something in Emma’s chest collapsed. 

“As much as I’m enjoying cuddling in front of your parents,” Regina said, loud enough for them all to hear. “I don’t think this is the best way to promote road-safety.” 

She eased herself off of Emma lightly, stepping onto the gravel of the driveway with remarkable grace for someone wearing such high heels. Mary Margaret gave her a grateful smile as she stepped around to push Emma up the ramp at the back of the car, into the wheelchair space.  
Emma motioned with her head for Regina to come sit in the single seat next to her, while her mom fixed the safety stuff in place and her dad climbed into the driver’s seat in the front. Emma sat and watched Regina sit down and buckle herself in as the car radio came to life, playing some poppy Christmas song.

As they pulled out of the driveway, her parents started talking about whatever charity they were fundraising for this year, and the Christmas song kept playing, and Emma alternated between looking out the window and looking at Regina. The sky was stuck in that place between  
night and day, dark and light, and the stars and streetlamps weren’t in competition for once: they both shone bright.

It didn’t take long for them to pull up at the venue. 

David set up the ramp and helped her down into the parking lot, where Regina took over pushing her past the rows of cars into the actual venue. Her parents held the door for them going in. Inside, the main ballroom was lit up with yellow light, and warmth washed over her skin immediately. There were a few people milling about already, the important people, town officials. Enough to fill the air with a low buzz of conversation. In the corner, the towering Christmas tree glittered with a dozen strings of multi-coloured fairy lights. 

“Right,” Mary Margaret said decisively, the moment the four of them were inside the cavernous room. “I have to go prepare for my opening speech. David, you’re on greeting duty.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Her dad grinned. 

Finally, the mayor turned to Emma and Regina. “You two, just... get settled before everyone starts arriving.” She flashed a well-meaning smile. “Have fun.”

“We’ll try,” Emma joked, nodding and grinning. 

“I love you. I’ll see you down here after the speeches,” Mary Margaret told them, giving her husband a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off up the sweeping staircase at the side of the room to where she was expected with a few other officials. 

“You heard the lady,” David shrugged. “Go have fun.”

Regina leaned down close to Emma’s ear, hands still resting on the handles at the back of the chair. “Where to?”

Emma opened her mouth. “I’d say the bar would be a good start.” 

Regina laughed, but she began pushing the chair anyway, around the gleaming dancefloor to where the well-stocked bar lined the far wall. More strings of lights lined the bar. A few young people in pressed uniforms and green ties were already hanging around behind the bar waiting for guests to start ordering. They looked almost relieved to see the two of them approaching. 

“So?” Regina asked, stepping away from Emma’s stationary chair to stand beside her. “What’s it going to be, Swan?”

“We have an excellent champagne on tap for the night,” One of the bartenders put in. He was smiling earnestly, fingers drumming against the gleaming wooden bar. “We’ve been told to recommend it ‘til we drop.”

“Very well,” Regina nodded. “Emma?”

“Yeah, I’ll give it go.” Emma nodded. “Assuming you stock straws.”

She and Regina exchanged a smile as the guy nodded, filling their dainty champagne flutes and looking almost desperate to be politically correct. By the time he’d handed them over, a load more people had arrived: soon, the room was crowded with the formally-dressed best of Storybrooke. It filled the building with a soft heat, and a constant buzz of chatter.

Emma sat back in her chair when her mom was called out to do her speech, watching her talk a little about the charity, introduce some bigwigs from the organisation. She hadn’t come last year, for obvious reasons – depression and paralysis and anger – but she swore this years speech seemed less boring than all the ones she’d heard growing up. 

Mary Margaret ended by introducing the band, some pretentious classical quartet from Boston, who struck up their first song immediately, prompting the mayor to announce the start of the dancing. Emma smiled, warmth spreading through her chest as she watched her parents come together at the bottom of the staircase, head out onto the dancefloor with a substantial bulk of the crowd.

When the dancing started, though, she went back to looking at her date. 

“What?” Regina asked after a few minutes, shoulders shrugging self consciously. 

“What?” The blonde echoed, smile unwavering. In her voice was the casual, flirty shrug her own shoulders couldn’t accomplish. 

Regina’s gaze flickered over her, suddenly self conscious as she suppressed the smile playing over her lips. “You’re staring at me.”

“Dance with me.” Emma stated, eyes ever leaving Regina’s. 

Regina tried to fight the smile creeping over her face. “And how do you expect me to do that?” She asked coyly, arching an eyebrow. Emma smirked, nodding down towards her chair. This time, Regina couldn’t repress the smile, spreading across her lips into a barely-contained grin. “Of course.”

But she didn’t protest. 

As the high orchestra music swelled in the air, and the other couples whirled around the dancefloor a few metres away, Regina dropped back into her place on the blonde’s lap, legs awkwardly resting over the arm of the wheelchair. Emma was grinning. It was infectious. There was a feeling fizzing through her chest like champagne bubbles she hadn’t felt in a long time. Beating hearts close together, Regina wound her arms around Emma’s neck like the other couples on the dancefloor were doing. 

“Hold on,” Emma grinned, summoning all the strength she had and directing it to her fingers, clumsy digits pressing down on the wheelchair buttons. In a second, the chair jolted, spinning to the left completely out of time with the music. Regina jolted closer against her, a small incredulous noise leaving the back of her throat like the birth of a laugh. Emma didn’t need to search for the will to press the other button, turning the other way.

They caught up with the music quickly, spinning with their own accompaniment of the wheelchair’s electrical whirr. Emma couldn’t help grinning as they turned faster, pressing the buttons and spinning the chair like mad. Regina clung to her suddenly tighter. When they jerked abruptly to the right, a loud peal of laughter rang through the air from her parted red lips and Emma thought it was the first time she’d heard her laugh. 

“Emma!” She cried. Her whole face was lit up in a smile, with the lights of the hall shining in her eyes, her dark glossy hair swinging against her neck and shoulders. She looked younger than Emma had ever seen her, and happier too. “I’m going to fall,”

“No,” Emma shook her head, chest crackling and sparking with a feeling she’d forgotten a long time ago. Her eyes never left her carer’s face. “You’re not.”

And somehow, suddenly, spinning around in the chair with the music all around and the people smiling and talking she didn’t feel like a burden. She didn’t feel like a waste of life and money. She didn’t feel useless, or pointless, or worthless. She was just her. She was just Emma. And she was dancing with a beautiful woman, at a boring party, and for the first time in a long time, she felt utterly and _completely_ happy.


	16. Agreements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I apologise for not getting this posted yesterday, I was busy with my first day of college, monologues etc. What with college and rehearsals updates might be a little more sporadic now rather than my usual Monday routine but I will always try and post at least once a week for you, promise! 
> 
> And so we embark on the next leg of the journey with a bit of a Regina and Henry centric chapter. As always, thank you all so much for your overwhelmingly lovely response!

They got back to the mayor’s house just before one in the morning, high on music and champagne, piled into the wheelchair, giggling. 

Regina could hardly believe it. _Giggling_. She hadn’t done that since she was ten. Let alone with someone she might actually have romantic feelings for. This was all so unexpected... If she hadn’t known her own tolerance so well, Regina might have thought the alcohol had gone to her head. Her legs bumped against Emma’s they whirred their way down the dark annex hallway.

“So,” Emma said, through a blinding grin, as she pressed the right buttons to push them through the wedged-open bedroom door. She shot her a look; they were pressed so close by the night and the chair their noses were nearly bumping. “How was that for a first date?”

Regina arched an eyebrow, chest fizzing and popping. “Are you sure all those romantic movies we watched don’t count?”

“Oh, shut up,” Emma muttered, nudging her head with her own. Regina guessed that was her version of a playful punch. “I didn’t even know I had a shot then.”

“Well, you do.” Regina told her lightly. The mechanical whirr of the wheelchair stopped abruptly as Emma’s chair came to a standstill in the centre of the room. They’d left the curtains open; outside the night was dark blue and the stars were cold, but she was impossibly warm. Emma caught her eye, smile frozen in place. Regina opened her mouth cautiously. “More than a shot, if I’m being honest.”

The air around them suddenly seemed so still and silent. Emma stared at her. There were still fireworks going off between her ribs. They were so loud, she was almost surprised the neighbours hadn’t complained.

“Good,” Emma spoke crisply, cleanly, through lips curled into a smile. She waited a moment, green eyes sparkling. A small smile twitched at her lips as she leaned her forehead closer and whispered, like a little kid telling a secret, “ _I really like you_.”

Regina’s breath caught in her throat. “I like you too.” She confessed slowly. Her hand rested lightly on the blonde’s shoulder. Beneath the strap of her dress, her skin was warm. “More than I’ve liked anyone for... a long time.”

“Oh,” The other woman’s smile softened. “In that case...”  
Emma’s wide eyes trailed up to find hers. They leaned in at the same time, in the same way: slowly, silently, soundly. She let her eyes fall closed, sparks shooting through her veins the instant their warm lips touched. Something in her chest danced at the soft, gentle pressure. When they pulled apart, it felt like they were still attached, a tangle of warm limbs and hair. They just stayed there for a minute in the moonlight, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything.

“What d’you say, Mills?” Emma said eventually, mouth curling into a lopsided smile. “You wanna give this a go?” 

Regina took a breath, studying the way Emma’s green eyes trailed over her, all silvers and greys in the moonlight. They were still close enough that their eyelashes were nearly touching; not that Regina could tell where they were and weren’t touching anymore, a tangle of legs and dresses and wheelchair. A breeze from the open window stirred through the curtains. Her heart was beating harder in her chest than it had done in years. God, what was she – what was she doing?

She blinked, mouth dry. Without thinking, her hands went to cover Emma’s on the arms of the wheelchair, making the blonde smile wide. After a few more heartbeats, she spoke, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corners of her mouth. 

“I want to give this a go.”

-0-

It was frosty and brisk the morning Regina finally found herself waiting on the front porch, arms wrapped around herself, for her son to come home. He was scheduled to arrive in approximately six minutes. Her eyes flicked down to the watch at her wrist again.  
She’d been standing outside for half an hour, just in case, checking her phone and craning for a glimpse around the corner of the street. She knew she was overreacting again, but there was nothing she could do. The Mills women weren’t exactly known for having a _relaxed_ approach to parenting.

Regina sighed, pulling her phone from the pocket of her slacks for the fiftieth time this morning and clicking on the screen. _Nothing_. No new messages, no missed calls. God, that was surreal. She could barely go a second in Portland without a call from her secretary or assistant or Robin or one of Henry’s teachers or _someone_. Brows drawing together slightly, she clicked it off and stowed it back in her pocket. 

Instead, she found herself glancing at the pale winter sky and running through what she was going to say in her head. It had to be done, she thought, with a distracted glance over the neat bushes lining the front garden, now crusted with silver frost, the empty pavement beyond. If she and Emma were really going to pursue this _thing_ of theirs, Henry had to know. It was only fair.

Huffily pushing her hair back behind her ear, Regina re-crossed her arms and waited until the sound of the cab grew louder and finally, the faded yellow car pulled up beside the pavement. Her heart leapt as she craned for a glimpse of ruffled brown hair through the back seat window. 

She hurried down the garden as quickly as she could without legitimately running, abrasive cold wind stinging at her cheeks and gloveless fingers. Regina didn’t notice. She was too busy opening the back door and catching her son tight against her in a crushing hug as he spilled out the door in a mess of red cheeks and toothy grin. “Mom!”

“Henry!” Regina heard her own voice breathe, muffled slightly against his fine brown hair. He smelled of home and Henry and Robin’s godawful pine shampoo. She dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head before resting her chin there and squeezing him hard. His own smaller fingers burrowed against her, gripping her genuinely for a second before disentangling himself. 

She let him go with relief washing through her chest. Henry was grinning widely, face and ears flushed bright red from the cold, hair ruffled from her sudden ambush. “Hey.”

“How are you, how was it?” Regina was already performing a quick scan, running her eyes over his bright, pale face while her fingers busied themselves adjusting his coat and smoothing down his hair. “Did you have fun?”

“Mom, get off!” Henry complained, ducking his head away from her. He was still grinning, hazel eyes bright and lit up from within, so Regina sighed and complied, sitting back and being content to do a visual inventory instead. “It was awesome! Dad took me to his park and I saw John and Tuck and everyone again, and he bought me this _giant_ pretzel, it was like this big!” He motioned with his hands. His young voice was high and breathless. “And I asked if I could go to the big museum there, because of the dinosaurs, and –”

Regina nodded and ahhed along to his hundred-mile-an-hour monologue, relieved he’d enjoyed himself and Robin had managed to hold his own as parent without her. Eventually she had to pause the Henry show to quickly pay the driver and send him off down the road, before turning back beside her son and heading back into the warmth of the house with him. 

“Plus, we watched all the X-Men films in like, this massive marathon, it was so cool!” Henry resumed his recount at top speed, jumping up onto his toes to hang his coat on one of the hooks in the porch. “I think Dad’s a lot happier now, like you. He actually talked to me, which he didn’t really do before, which was cool. He only got called into work once, which I think must be some kind of record! And -”

“He got called into work?” Regina spun around on her heels, her own jacket frozen in her hand. She fixed her son with _the mother stare_. “Did he go, what happened? He did not leave you in the apartment on your own in that city!”

“Relax, Mom,” Henry shrugged, cheery grin still in place. Wide hazel eyes found hers. “He got Uncle John to come round and sit with me. It was only for like, an hour.”

Regina’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. He knows perfectly well how I feel about –”

Henry finished taking off his backpack and bounded closer, looking up at her with wide eyes. “I missed you too.” He flashed another grin. “Now come on! You said we could decorate the Christmas tree when I got back...”

It was decorating said tree that Regina finally began to work up the courage to tell her son what was going on. 

She was sitting on the hardwood floor untangling knots of tinsel while he hung up the smaller decorations, chattering endlessly about Portland and superheroes and school and baubles. Outside the wide-set windows, the bare tree branches rattled in the wind, and the sky was barren and white as a tundra, but in their newly-furnished living room the lights were gold and warm, and they’d somehow managed to push the tree into prime position in front of the window, laughing the whole time. For a scrawny nine year old and a woman who barely cleared five four, Regina had to say they hadn’t done bad. _Not bad at all_. 

She was half-listening to his stream of chatter as she worked. It was endlessly comforting having his high, sweet voice filling the high ceilings of their not-so-new home again: she hadn’t realised how quiet it had been here without him until he was back. But soon she’d have to interrupt with... _Her_ news. 

Repressing a sigh, she began running through her speech in her head. She’d spent the past two days scrolling through banal parenting websites for tips on breaking the news. Regina felt her brow crease into a frown as she tugged at the tinsel, a dark wave of hair falling against her cheek. 

_You have to do it_ , the voice in her head reminded her. _You have to do it now_. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to make her move before she could do something stupid or cowardly. “So, Henry,” Regina began, looking up from the tangled decorations in her lap. “I think we need to have a little talk.”

“What about?” Henry asked, suddenly serious and not-quite-adult. He dropped down from where he’d been balanced on his toes to reach a higher branch. His eye were wide, thin line of his lips serious. “Are you okay?”

“Yes – yes, I am.” She paused, breathed in deeply. “You know that while you were with your father, I accompanied Emma to the Storybrooke Annual Charity Ball?”

“Right,” Henry nodded cheerily. He was rolling a sparkly white bauble between his hands. “You said on Skype.”

Regina paused, carefully deliberating her next few words. “It wasn’t really for work.”

“Okay...”

She breathed in, studying the tinsel intently. _Oh, stop stalling_. Regina jerked her head up, making sure to meet her son’s gaze and hold it carefully. He was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. The bauble had stilled in his fingers. Regina breathed in, looked him in the eye, and opened her mouth to clarify. “It was on a date.”

Regina paused, letting her words hang in the air between them. Then, like the sun rising in his eyes, a huge grin spread over Henry’s face. “I knew it!”

“I –” Regina began, ready to run off the spool of affirmations about Robin and him and divorce and love, heart jumpy and panicky in her chest. Then she realised he was grinning, and his words finally registered. “Wait, what?”

“I knew it!” Henry repeated triumphantly. “I knew she liked you! Mom, this is awesome!”

“What?” Regina stare at him, brow creased, mouth open. All the websites said children of divorce tended to be opposed to parents taking on new parents. The websites said to break the news carefully, and validate their feelings, none ever said... She faltered. “Why?”

“Well, did it make you happy going on a date with her?” Henry asked, looking at her all grown-up and reasonable. 

“Well...” Regina struggled. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? She repressed a sigh. The truth, she supposed. “Yes. It did.”

Henry nodded, like his point had been proved. “Then that’s why it’s awesome!”

Something in Regina’s chest melted over her ribs. She stared at him, taking in his happy smile and dancing eyes, wondering how and why she’d been given such a wonderful person for a son. “Henry...”

“Dad didn’t make you happy. You didn’t make Dad happy.” Henry explained, with a shrug. “Not for the last few years, Mom, even I know that.” He flashed a toothy grin. “So now you can date Emma and make each other happy, and you can be heroes together!”

“Heroes...?” Regina was lost. Lost, and suddenly _overwhelmed_ with love for the little boy in front of her. 

“Yeah,” Henry nodded enthusiastically. “Emma’s a hero ‘cause she stayed alive and she’s part cyborg. She’s got a chair just like Professor X. And you’re a hero because you help me and everyone else, and now you can be heroes together!” 

“Henry...” Regina stared at him, watching him going about hanging another decoration on the tree. Hastily setting the pile of tinsel on the floor beside her, she leaned forward on her knees and pulled him against her chest in another tight hug. He gave a squeak of surprise, but didn’t protest, instead wrapping his own skinny arms around her middle like a vice. She exhaled slowly, burying her face in his hair and wondering when exactly it was that she started feeling happy again. 

That night, after she’d tucked him soundly into bed with the most unfamiliar, contented feeling humming in her chest, Regina headed back downstairs for a glass of water only to find her phone vibrating with a new text message where she’d left it on the kitchen side. _Who the hell is texting me so late?_ Frowning, she picked it up and opened the messaging app. Her heart did the most absurd little half-skip as she read the words on screen. _One new message from Emma Swan_. Regina swallowed, opening it. It said one word: _Hey_

Regina felt her eyebrows draw together slightly, despite the smile threatening to break across her lips. She suppressed it easily, tapping back a simple _Hey?_ and heading back into the living room, sinking down into the soft sofa cushions and staring at the device. 

Between the half-drawn curtains the new Christmas tree glittered, expertly draped with lights and tinsel. It put a smile on her lips – it was the first time she and Henry had decorated the tree together, just the two of them. Their first Christmas in Storybrooke. Regina smiled. It looked like, for once in her life, one of her plans might just be working out. 

Within minutes, her phone was vibrating with another text. She read it quickly, eyes scanning the little blue bubble on her screen. _U ok?_

Regina frowned, although this time the smile did manage to curve over her mouth, despite her best efforts. There was a feeling in her chest like her heart was holding its breath. She quickly typed out her response and pressed send. They hadn’t texted since agreeing to go forward with their... Whatever it was. _What do you want?_

The time at the top of her phone screen hadn’t yet changed when Emma’s reply buzzed onto her screen. Regina’s smile widened her eyes scanned the new message. _To take you on a date Monday. Granny’s. Lunch. Im paying_. 

Barely supressed grin on her face, Regina opened her keyboard and tapped back. _I’m busy working Monday. I believe the mayor requires me to do something... Something about wheeling some disabled woman around? I don’t recall_. 

_She sounds great_ , Emma’s reply came through almost immediately. _Bet she has nice hair and a cool collection of leather too_

_She’s okay..._ Regina allowed, smirking down at her phone screen. 

_I just got a message from the mayor ur new work involves going on a date with me just come in normal time_

_You’re an idiot_ , Regina replied. 

_So i’ll see u Monday??_

Regina stared at her phone screen for a moment, mind full of Portland and Robin and Henry and heroes. Briefly, she shook her head, and let a begrudging smile spread over her mouth. _Count on it._


	17. Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is another warm and fuzzy, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Another big thank you to everyone giving this story support, you’re all absolutely incredible.

Three days before Christmas, Emma woke up to a light blanket of snow clinging to the misty window pane, more still swirling softly like stars or the ends of Q-tips from the pale sky, and a heavy contented feeling in her chest. She laid beneath the covers – not that she could do much else – and watched it come down, listening to her own breathing and the sound of her heart beating in her ears. It was weirdly satisfying – she couldn’t feel it thump beneath her fingers like she did before, after a workout or a date, but she could hear it if she stayed very quiet against the pillows, and that made her feel connected, a part of her own broken body again. 

Thin morning light filled her room, shifting over the walls as the sun rose. Emma watched the snow slow to a stop. A thin carpet of white lay over the grass outside, clinging to bare brown branches and shivering leaves. _When was the last time we had snow in Storybrooke?_ She couldn’t remember. _It looks just like a Christmas card._

After the snow stopped, her bedroom door opened loudly and August’s familiar face poked around the door, wearing a grin and a Santa hat, stuck at a jaunty angle over his hair. He had a snow-dusted coat bundled on over his scrubs. When he saw she was awake his eyes widened almost comically. “What’s this? Emma Swan, awake before midday?”

“Shut up,” Emma managed, mustering a smile. Already, something like anticipation fluttered in her stomach. “Maybe I’m just getting into the Christmas spirit. You clearly are.” She grinned. “Nice hat, by the way.”

“Thanks,” August replied seriously. “I’m told it’s very in season.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Get your ass over here and get me into that thing. Regina’s in today.”

“Yes ma’am,” August nodded, tugging his Santa hat off and tossing it on the side – height of fashion or not. “Wouldn’t want your lady seeing you looking this sleepy and gross.” 

Emma grinned and pretended to ignore him, even though the phrase _your lady_ sent a dozen butterflies flitting through her stomach. The nurse made quick work of helping Emma into her wheelchair and setting it up, turning to make the bed before sorting out whatever pills she was assigned this week.

He made her some tea and toast while he did his thing, and Emma had breakfast watching the sky spit odd snowflakes down to the ground and joking back and forth. Her parents came in to say good morning. She got dressed. She said goodbye to August, sending him on his way with a smile and a novelty Christmas card. She tried to think, but she couldn’t remember for the life of her when it had gotten so easy. 

The jangle of keys turning in the annex door and heels clicking on hardwood floors sent Emma’s heart into an upward spiral – even though it was technically just another workday for Regina, it _wasn’t_ , and it hadn’t been ever since the ball. There hadn’t been all that much more in the way of kissing or seriously talking, but they’d bantered at the hospital, watched Christmas movies together on TV, taken Henry to the comic book store, had a few coffees at Granny’s. It was nice. It was nice, and it was easy, and Emma grinned every single time she heard her come through the door. 

“Morning,” Regina greeted briskly, pushing around the bedroom door inside her room, black wool scarf knotted tight around her throat, bag swinging from gloved wrists. There was snow melting in her dark hair, and her lips were coloured a festive shade of red. 

“Morning.” Emma grinned. Her fingers drummed on the arms of her chair. “You good?”

“Debatable.” Regina allowed, lifting her bag onto it’s usual spot on the side and stowing her keys inside. She turned around, shooting Emma a look, dark eyes wide. “Henry woke me up at six thirty this morning insisting we make snowmen.” 

“You made snowmen without me?” Emma stared, mouth falling open. “Not fair!”

Regina smiled and lifted a perfectly coiffed eyebrow. “Don’t worry yourself with jealousy, Miss Swan. It’s so light we actually ended up with snow amoebas.” 

Emma chuckled, shooting a glance out the steamy window to the winter wonderland of her mom’s back garden. “That sounds about right,” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the grin off her lips, or the tingling feeling out of her chest. She caught Regina’s eye. “So where is the little man today? I was kinda surprised when Mom said you were coming in.”

“Nick’s.” Regina explained. “His parents are braving hosting a fourth grade _Christmas sleepover_.” She turned around, digging a newspaper and a Tupperware box out of her handbag. “I got you today’s Daily Mirror.” 

Emma pulled a face. “Ugh,” 

“Complain all you like, but I won’t be associated with anyone completely out of touch with the world.” 

“ _Associated_?” Emma gave her a _seriously?_ look. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Be quiet.” The brunette rolled her eyes, hint of a smile on her lips. “Have you eaten?” 

“Yup. August made me peanut butter on toast. Breakfast of champions.”

“Not quite, but I have extra quinoa salad for you later.” Regina flashed a winning smile at the look of disgust on Emma’s face, holding up the neatly labelled Tupperware. “Which I am going to put in the fridge.”

When she returned, she was holding one of Emma’s bobble hats and a scarf. 

“By the way,” Regina smiled, clicking her way back into Emma’s bedroom. She paused in the doorway, dark eyes sparkling. “We’re going out today.”

“What?” Emma asked, staring between the pieces of knitwear dangling from the brunette’s manicured hands. Only then did she realise Regina was still wearing her coat and scarf. “Where?” 

She couldn’t deny the spark of excitement in her stomach, where a few months ago there only would have been cold dread at the thought. Was today going to be a _date day_ or not? Emma’s eyes met Regina’s. She’d just assumed that today they’d have a more normal working day, with Regina doing paperwork and making lunch, and then maybe later they’d watch a Christmas movie or read together or something.

“Where?” Emma repeated, when Regina didn’t reply, grin frozen in place. 

Regina just smiled. “You’ll see.”

-0-

“So this is probably the last time I’m going to see you before Christmas, and I don’t even get to pick where we’re going,” Emma complained, but Regina could hear the smile in her voice. “That is so not fair. I’m the pathetic wheelchair loser here.” 

“You are not a loser!” Regina reminded her, choosing to ignore the other half of the sentence. Her cheeks were stinging in the cold as she pushed Emma down the park path, but warmth bubbled in her chest, and the numbness in her fingers seemed irrelevant. “Quite the  
opposite, in fact.”

Overhead, bony tree branches swayed in the breeze, leaves traded for sparkling white sleeves. The sky was wide and pale, the colour of fabric that had been white a long time ago. Emma’s wheelchair left twin tracks in the snow. As Regina pushed her beneath the trees, she was reminded of that first time they’d left the house together, going down to the docks and watching the grey sea shift. It felt like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. Her fingers were turning numb on the handles of the softly whirring chair. 

It didn’t take long for the distant music of Christmas carols to fill the air. Regina kept her head down, smiling at the back of Emma’s knitted bobble hat. Soon enough, the little village of wooden market stalls came into sight at the other end of the grass, the plastic walls of the ice rink. She could smell chestnuts roasting, the warm spicy scent of mulled wine filling the air. She supressed another smile.

“Seriously, Regina?” Emma laughed, realising where they were headed. “I thought you of all people wouldn’t buy into all that twee festive crap.”

Regina didn’t say anything, just kept pushing her down the path towards the stalls. The air was sharp and cold against her skin, snow crunching under her boots, but she’d never felt warmer. 

The Storybrooke Christmas fair and market rose without fail every year, filling the centennial park with music and laughter. It had been running for a few days, but Regina hadn’t been before today. Emma was right: it wasn’t her scene. In fact, it was exactly the kind of twee sugar-coated rubbish she’d have mocked Robin for dragging Henry to back in Portland.  
_But that was then._ Everything was different now. 

She smoothed her hair back behind her ear as she pushed Emma down the gravel path – crunchy with salt – and under the twinkling Christmas lights that were strung between the trees and stalls. Warmth from the hot food and drink stalls washed over her cold cheeks. Somewhere, a choir was singing carols. 

“Well, Miss Swan?” Regina leaned forward over the back of the wheelchair, dark ends of her hair brushing Emma’s bobble hat. “Where to first?”

Emma laughed, leaving puffs of cold smoke in the air and twisting her neck to shoot her a look. Beneath the knitted hat, her cheeks and nose were flushed red with cold, blonde hair tangled about her shoulders. Her green eyes were wide and shining. “I can’t believe you brought me here.”

“Will you get over yourself?” Regina remarked, suppressing a smile. _She looks so happy._ “Seriously, what do you want first? Hot drink, alcoholic drink, shopping?”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ want to go to the Christmas market?”  
“Yes,” Regina fixed her posture, dignity in tact. After a pause, her dark eyes met Emma’s. “I still need to buy you a present.”

“You don’t need to do that –”

“No.” Regina cut the blonde off quickly, with a half-smile and a nod. “But I’d like to.”

Emma’s gaze flicked over her once, twice, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Eventually, she nodded. “Okay.” She smiled, raising her eyebrows. “But I want a drink first.”

“Drink it is,” Regina acquiesced, taking the handles again and beginning to push Emma’s chair through the crowds of scarf-wrapped shoppers moving between rows of stalls.

The Christmas market was already bustling, home-made candles and carved decorations and embroidered scarves displayed in crammed wooden stalls perfect for last minute gift-buying. The scent of mulled wine spiced the cold air, roasting chestnuts crackling in the open. Brightly coloured lights were strung between the trees and the stalls both. A gaggle of children wrapped in scarves and hats ran past shouting. With the thin carpet of snow on the ground, Regina had to admit, it looked every bit the perfect picture postcard. 

“Hey, stop here,” Emma called, fingers moving clumsily over the chair buttons. Regina stepped back from the chair, letting the blonde spin it around to face the stall herself before giving her a questioning look. Emma grinned, nodding towards the chalkboard menu as an explanation. “Hot chocolate.”

“And there I was thinking you meant something with alcohol,” Regina smiled lightly, scanning the board. “You eat like a child.”

“I – hey,” Emma turned away from Regina to address the barista. “Can I get a hot chocolate to go, please? With a straw, if possible.” If she was hurt by the boy’s blatant staring, she didn’t show it. Instead, she turned to Regina. “And she’ll have a...?”

“Hot apple cider.” Regina filled in crisply. 

“Whoa.” Emma raised a brow at her. “Day drinking?”

“It’s Christmas.”

“Sure is. Can I get some cinnamon in that?” Emma asked with a grin. Her nose was red but her smile was sunlight. 

Regina made an incredulous noise in the back of her throat, smile spreading over her red-painted lips. “You remember the cinnamon,” She stared. “From my first day?”

“Told you, Mills,” Emma began, meeting the brunette’s eyes with a softness like snow in her chest. “I remember everything about you.” 

After that, whatever tensions or thoughts they had about the bigger picture melted away like the snow on the salted paths. Emma wanted to get herself around for a while, so Regina fell into step beside the clicking, whirring wheelchair (it didn’t take well to the weather) as they meandered the market. 

Despite the blonde’s protests, she did end up letting Regina buy her a pair of Ecuadorian mittens – alpaca, apparently – even though Regina complained the mittens cost much less than the earrings Emma had given her. Somehow, by the time they were done combing the stalls and sharing roasted chestnuts, the evening was beginning to draw in and a light snow was starting to fall again.

“You wanna stop for a minute, go watch the ice skaters?” Emma offered, breathless from the cold. 

Regina nodded, and insisted on wheeling her again – it was quite a way from the end of the market back to the rink, and she could see Emma was tired, despite what she said. She stopped her beside a bench by the rink, taking a seat herself on the end beside her. It was crowded, but there was a singer setting up beside the skaters, and a feeling in her chest like home, and in that moment there was barely anywhere she’d rather be. 

As the sky grew darker, the Christmas lights tingled brighter and brighter, a dozen different colours. Gentle as feathers, the snow piled high. The two of them huddled close as they could with the wheelchair in the way, sharing warmth. On the ice, the skaters were laughing and stumbling and gliding, as the music swelled and fell softly in the cold air. They shared the last of the roasted chestnuts from the paper bag, Regina’s cold hands fumbling with the hot food. 

On the podium beside the crowded rink, the singer began another song. The melody surrounded them like a bubble. Emma turned to her, cheeks flushed red, grin wide and infectious, stray snowflakes melting in her blonde hair. Regina’s heart was spilling with warmth, freezing fingers gripping Emma’s freezing fingers as the snow swirled down around them.

Regina wasn’t an expert on love. She definitely wasn’t an expert on happiness, not by a long shot, and frankly she doubted she ever would be. But Regina couldn’t help it and she couldn’t deny it. When their eyes met, snow falling, music swelling, lights shining, people laughing, chest bubbling, she could have sworn everything was going to be alright. 

She could almost feel her bruises sinking, like mud under snow. Bells were ringing back in the market. Regina looked at the Christmas lights reflecting in Emma’s eyes, the wide grin she once thought she’d never see, and wondered if maybe she’d been just as broken as the quadriplegic when they’d met, in a different way, a less visible way. If maybe she’d been broken so long she didn’t even realise. 

Suddenly, everything rushed to catch up with her. Everything: Mother to scared office colleagues and Robin and phone calls with Henry’s Portland teachers and laying awake all night feeling nothing and how all of that, all of it seemed so far away it was as if it had happened to a whole other person. And Regina wondered if maybe in helping Emma, she’d helped herself. 

“Hey,” Emma’s soft voice brought her back from her thoughts. Concern and care were written across the lines of her face. Their cold noses were almost bumping. “It’s okay,”

“It is,” Regina breathed, and then frowned. Her voice sounded high and thin in her own ears: it was only then that she realised she was crying. 

Emma’s face crumpled into a cathartic smile, and she caught Regina’s eye before motioning with her head. “Come here.”

For once, Regina didn’t need to be told twice. She moved closer to the end of the bench, leaning in swiftly to lay her head against Emma’s shoulder. She could feel the blonde exhale before resting her own head against hers. Regina nestled in closer, eyes closing to squeeze the last of the tears away. Emma’s body was warm, hair soft and tangled against Regina’s cheek.

_Yes_ , Regina thought, exhaling a long breath as the bells chimed and the singer played on. It misted in the cold air in front of her, as her cold fingers tangled in Emma’s once more. _We’re going to be alright._

-0-

It was fully dark by the time they got back to the mayor’s house, a thin rind of moon hanging in the inky sky. Regina’s numb fingers fumbled with her keys for a minute in the front door, and Emma hung back waiting, hands hovering over the buttons on her armrests. 

Inside, a wave of warmth washed over her face, thawing her out. She wheeled herself after Regina into her bedroom, mouth dry, mind racing. Her heart was beating madly – it had been the whole way back, even as they laughed together. Ever since they’d left the park she been trying _desperately_ to think of something to say, to do. Her mind was racing, desperate for some way to prolong the magic, some way to keep the day from ever ending. 

“Right,” Regina muttered to herself, organizing something inside her bag.

_Last chance, Swan._

“Would you maybe want to, um,” Emma opened her mouth, searching for the right thing to say. She could feel Regina’s eyes on her, expectant. She winced and braced herself. “Stay the night?”

Regina spun around on her heels, dark eyes wide. “Emma, you’d better be joking. There’s no way either of us is ready for that, not yet at least –”

“No, god no, not like _that_!” Emma rushed to amend herself, cheeks burning. “No! It’s just that we’ve drunk a bit and it’s late and it’s snowing and Henry’s out so... I mean, you’ve already got overnight stuff here for work in case of emergencies. You don’t have to, but I just –”

“Yes.” 

“What?” Emma stared at her, heart thumping, in slight disbelief. 

Regina was standing there in front of her, arms folded matter-of-factly over her chest. Her face was completely impassive. “Yes.” 

“Um,” Emma barely choked back a grin. She cocked her head at the brunette, fingers awkwardly tightening against the armrests of her chair. “Did I just hear you right?” 

“Yes,” Regina repeated, completely unaffected. She stared unnervingly calmly at her for a minute, before she shrugged, sculpted brows rising. “I don’t see why not. Henry won’t need me until tomorrow morning. It’s not like I had any other plans.”

So Regina quickly texted Henry her whereabouts ‘just in case’, and Emma began to feel a nervous jump of anticipation in her stomach – it was clear nothing was going to happen, not in that way at least, but still. This was the first time since the accident she’d ever...  
When her parents came in to leave some of their leftovers in her pantry and say goodnight, they didn’t seem at all surprised to find Regina still in there with her. 

“I’m going to go grab my emergency bag from the main house and get changed,” Regina told her, sensing the couple wanted a quiet family moment. They nodded, and she slipped out quietly. 

When Regina re-entered the bedroom a few minutes later, Emma was sitting in her chair wearing pyjamas – red plaid – and looking up at her parents as they chatted over Christmas Day plans. Her long blonde hair as tangled and loose, and on the black metal rests of her chair, her feet were bare. 

“Hey,” Emma called, breaking away from her parents and wheeling herself over towards the bed. Regina hung by the door, watching as she twisted her head back at her parents, green eyes wide and bright. “Dad, can you...?”

“On it,” David nodded, following his daughter and manoeuvring the wheelchair around beside the bed, unhooking something from underneath. Regina watched silently as he got Emma upright onto the bed. Beside her, Mary Margaret gave her a weak smile. Regina managed to smile back, thinking of the struggling mess of a woman who had interviewed her when she’d first arrived. She seemed, if not completely gone, on her way out. That seemed almost a million years ago now.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Mary Margaret announced softly, looking between them. “We should get some sleep. David?”  
David nodded, going back around the bed to his wife. “’Night,”

“’Night,” Emma muttered. 

“'Night,”

As soon as they heard the annex door slam shut behind them, Emma conjured a grin, eyes following Regina from her seat on the bed. “Well,” She said, “That was a ridiculously perfect day.”

“You need to stop being surprised when things go well,” Regina told her honestly, shooting her a look as she moved around to deal with the wheelchair. “And so do I.” Emma smiled down at her lap.

“Right,” Regina muttered under her breath, tossing a wave of dark hair back over her shoulder and kneeling to inspect the empty chair. “Now how do I turn this damn thing off?”

Once Emma was safely sat back against the headboard, she looked back at Regina as the brunette frowned down at the wheelchair fixtures. She watched her struggle to deactivate the thing for a minute, and then, without thinking, burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” Emma managed, ridiculous happiness bubbling in her chest.

“What?” Regina stared at her. “What’s so funny?” 

“I’m in a polygamous relationship,” Emma laughed. “There’s you, me and the chair.”

Regina shot her an unamused look, but her brown eyes were sparkling and Emma could see the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She held her gaze until they were both laughing again, and Emma could motion with her head as best she could for Regina to come and join her. 

“Lights off?” Regina asked. 

Emma pretended her breath hadn’t caught in her throat. “Sure.” 

She watched the brunette draw the curtains mostly closed, reach over to flick off the light switch. The warm golden glow filling her bedroom was replaced with dim silvery moonlight, pale and bright through the thin curtains. Regina was painted in shadows and shade as she slipped around the other side of the bed. Emma’s eyes never left her as she reached for the covers and almost tentatively, almost uncertainly climbed in, face downturned beneath loose dark hair. The bedsprings creaked under the new weight. 

Nobody else had ever shared this bed before. 

They’d bought all new furniture when they’d converted the old garden storage shed into Emma’s annex. She told them to sell everything from her old apartment, the place she’d been living before it happened, barely a street away. She didn’t want anything left. Now she was glad. It felt right, this bed just being used for her, and now Regina. _Does that make sense?_ Emma wondered, eyes following Regina’s shadowed face. _Does it matter?_

In the moonlight, Regina’s eyes met hers. She didn’t say anything, but Emma knew what she was asking: she had to swallow her pride and nod. The bedframe creaked as the brunette moved nearer across the mattress, wide eyes finding Emma’s in the dark. A thin slice of moonlight fell across her face from the window, lighting her up. 

Emma suddenly felt very heavy, awkward. She knew this was fine for Regina, nothing out of the ordinary – this was her job, after all. She just _wished_ it _didn’t have to be_. Swallowing, her eyes flickered up to meet Regina’s. The brunette was looking at her steadily, plainly – it was reassuring, but something still cracked inside her when she reached out her hands to help Emma lie down, guiding her carefully down onto her pillow.

It hurt, but she kept looking at the other woman’s eyes and for once having to be helped do every little thing wasn’t totally embarrassing. Resting her head against the pillow and trying to blow her own hair from her eyes, Emma released a breath she’d been holding a long time. Regina smoothed her hair back and pulled the covers back over her, unaffected. Ordinary. 

She was so beautiful – as beautiful as she had been earlier, beside the ice rink, surrounded by lights with her cheeks flushed and snowflakes caught in her dark hair. Emma couldn’t stop staring. A small smile tugged at her lips, painful warmth spilling through her chest. 

“Are you okay?” Regina asked, still half sitting up. In the pale light of the moon beyond the window, her eyes were wide and shining with concern she knew was not strictly professional. 

“Mmm.” Emma nodded awkwardly against the pillow, watching as the other woman laid down beside her. She waited a beat, listening to the night and their hearts beating and their breathing. “Can you just – move my arms, a bit?”

In the darkness, Regina’s eyes found hers, impossibly bright. “How?” 

Emma waited, counting the beats of her heart in her chest. “Could you put my arms around you?”

Regina, to her credit, didn’t protest. She just moved across the covers until she was close enough for her gentle hands to almost tentatively move the other woman’s arms so that they were draped around her torso. Her gaze flickered up to meet Emma’s as she did, as if to ask if she was doing it right. Emma just watched her, corners of her lips almost trying to curl up into a smile.

“Can you feel it?” Regina asked softly, after a long time. 

“No.” Emma confessed, with a lopsided smile and an ache in her chest. Her eyes never left the other woman’s face. “But I can see it, and that’s almost as good, I think.”

It was the best night’s sleep she’d had since the accident.


	18. Two Way Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just a little quick update for you today, but I have something very big lined up for next week, so you’re just going to have to hold on and trust me... 
> 
> Once again, thank you to everybody reading, following, commenting etc. You’re all amazing!

Regina’s first Christmas in Storybrooke had been a quiet one. 

She’d woken to Henry jumping on her bed in his Captain America pyjamas waving the gifts ‘Santa’ had given him in her face and animatedly chattering on about them; they’d had a slow breakfast and a slower morning, opening presents under the tree while Regina darted back and forth from the kitchen where their two-person Christmas dinner was cooking. She hadn’t expected it, but Henry had presented her proudly with a small, clumsily gift-wrapped box labelled, _to Mom from Henry_. Apparently he’d asked Robin to help get her something while he was in Portland. It turned out to be a necklace on a fine gold chain in the shape of a crown. She put it on immediately – oddly, the set of the gold matched the earrings Emma had given her. 

Anyway, Henry had been equally thrilled with all his presents: Regina had to admit, she may have gone a little overboard. He’d shrieked with joy when he found the present labelled to Henry, from Emma under the tree. Regina had tried to tell Emma she didn’t have to, but Emma seemed firm that she _did_ , and spent a long time picking out just the right gift for him: it was a beautiful gilt-edged book of fairy tales, and she’d had Regina write the inscription for her. _To Henry – a new lot of heroes for when you need a break from the Marvel ones. From Professor S._

They’d had dinner just the two of them, and Skyped Robin, which hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought, and Skyped her parents which was exactly as bad as she’d thought but she’d kept Henry with her on camera the whole time, so her mother couldn’t really start. 

And in the evening, when Henry had fallen asleep in front of the TV – _The Wizard of Oz_ was playing – Regina called Emma and they’d talked long into the early hours of Boxing Day morning, whispering so as not to wake him.

All in all, their first holiday without Robin had been a complete success. In fact, Regina thought, it may have been the best Christmas she could remember. 

She’d worked it out with Mary Margaret that her first official day back at work would land on the same day Henry went back to school, and she found herself waking up easily to the sound of her alarm ringing beside her ear. 

Pushing back the covers, Regina sat up and stretched the tense muscles in her shoulders, already wondering what the day would bring. If she was being honest, she was a little apprehensive about going back to her ‘job’. Did it count as that anymore? Should she insist they stop paying her and find another job? Should she simply do what was required of her during the week and try to stay professional until her days off? 

She didn’t know. And it wouldn’t do to just sit and wonder, she supposed, so she made herself get out of bed and wake Henry, putting the thought from her mind as she went about making breakfast and brewing coffee, the same as she did every other morning. _Focus, Regina. Shower, clothes, makeup, find Henry’s scarf, school bag check._

They were out the house by their normal time, Regina keeping easy pace with Henry despite his insistence that he could walk to school on his own now. “So, are you excited about your first day back?” She asked, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Henry shrugged, balancing on the kerb as he went. His stripy scarf flapped in the cold breeze. “I can’t wait to tell everyone about all the cool stuff I got! And we’re supposed to start learning about knights and kings and stuff in history!”

“Wow. Knights and kings,” Regina buried her hands in her coat pockets. Her breath misted in the cold air in front of her. “I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“What about you?” Henry asked suddenly, huge bright eyes turning up to look at her. His cheeks were red from the cold, despite the coat, scarf and knitted hat she’d forced him into this morning. 

Regina was confused. “What about me?”

“Are you excited to go back to work?” Henry asked. A huge grin appeared on his face. “Are you and Emma going on a date again? Are you gonna be girlfriends?”

“What? Henry, no,” Regina struggled to find the right thing to say, staring down at his small expectant face and fighting the urge to laugh, incredulous. “I’ve told you, Emma and I aren’t... _Girlfriends_. We’re just...”

Henry sensed her uncertainty and jumped onto it with fervour. “Well what are you, then?” He asked, high voice suddenly loud, flinging his hands out to emphasize his point. “You _like_ like each other, you said, _and_ you had a sleepover! Paige said her sister said when you _like_ like someone and you have a sleepover with them you have to be a couple.”

“Did she now?” Regina chuckled, hands finding Henry’s back and guiding him away from the kerb as they approached the school. “Come on. No more girlfriend talk.”

“But _Mom_!” Henry whined. He paused, hurrying along beside her. “Well, when can _I_ see Emma again? It’s been ages!”

“It’s been less than a week, and soon,” Regina promised, herding him towards the school gates, where clusters of parents were already waiting to see their children inside. 

She knelt down by the gates to give him a quick hug and knot his scarf tighter around his neck where it had started to come undone, ignoring his protests, before waving him goodbye and letting him join his friends in the playground. Despite the biting cold, Regina stood and waited for him to go inside before turning around and making her way towards the mayor’s house. 

Regina turned her gave to the pavement beneath her feet, shifting her bag on her arm and burying her hands back inside her pockets. They _had_ had a... _sleepover_ , as Henry put it. Regina’s heart still shattered and came back together all at once when she thought about it, thought about the way Emma had looked at her like there was something worth looking at, the way her voice had sounded when she’d asked her to put her arms around her.

Looking back, that whole day at the Christmas market and the night that followed seemed like something out of a dream, a perfect bubble world that couldn’t really exist. But the charity ball felt very much the same, too. And the day Emma had given her the earrings. The day she’d read to her. Everything... They’d woken up the morning after still tangled in each others arms, sunlight streaming in through the crack in the curtains, melted snow dripping off the flowers beyond the window. Regina could scarcely remember a time she’d slept so well. 

Before she even had time to think about what she was going to do regarding her job status, Regina reached the mayor’s house. _Well, no point putting off._ She breathed in, fished her keys out of her purse and flicked her hair back behind her shoulder as she fitted it into the lock. Pushing through into the foyer of the main house, Regina was hit by a wave of heat and began unwinding her scarf – just as she saw Mary Margaret coming down into the main room. She immediately seized up, eyes darting onto the mayor. _Damn it_. Regina cleared her throat, mustering a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Regina –” Mary Margaret paused, and then matched her smile with her own. Her face softened. “I’m so glad you caught me before work, I actually have something I would like to discuss with you, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Regina agreed, finishing taking off her coat and folding it over her arm before following the mayor through the foyer and into what she assumed was her study – she’d never been inside it before. She stepped around the door cautiously, though Mary Margaret seemed quite comfortable bustling around to one side of the cluttered desk. 

The room was small, and every inch crammed with paperwork, files, books, novelty paperweights, greetings cards, framed pictures, small stuffed animals. Regina drew up a chair tightly and took a seat the other side of the desk, coat and purse in her lap. They were both quiet for a moment as Mary Margaret hefted aside a stack of Post-It covered files, clearing room for her to lean forward and lay her hands on her desk. 

Eventually, Regina cleared her throat. “I think I know what this is about.”

“You do?” Mary Margaret looked across at her, green eyes wide and surprised. 

Regina nodded, meeting the other woman’s eyes across the cluttered desk. The situation was so formal, almost reminiscent of their first meeting, when she’d been given the job, and yet so much had happened and so many strict lines had melted away since... Regina wasn’t exactly sure what tone this conversation was supposed to have, so she adopted her standard workplace professionalism, flipping her hair away from her face and smoothing down the lap of her skirt. 

“I understand completely,” Regina began. “My role in Emma’s life isn’t exactly that of a care worker anymore and if you want to bring someone else in, I –”

“Wait, what?” Mary Margaret’s plucked eyebrows rose up in surprise. “You think I’m firing you?”

Regina shifted in her seat, cleared her throat again. “That’s not the word I would have gone for, but...” She frowned. “Aren’t you?”

“No!” The mayor’s face lit up into a smile, eyes bright. “God, no! Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“The opposite...” Regina was lost. “What do you mean?” 

“Regina, I’m going to be frank with you here,” Mary Margaret started, smile still stretching over her mouth even as she spoke. “When I realised what was growing between you and Emma I was... Relieved. Honestly, I didn’t think she had it in her to feel anything but pain. But you...” Her eyes met Regina’s purposefully. “You matter a great deal to her, and for that I am endlessly grateful.”

Regina swallowed, warmth flooding through her chest. _You matter a great deal to her._ She paused, searching for something to say. “It wasn’t exactly a professional choice – or a choice, for that matter, but...” 

“But it happened, and thank god it did!” Mary Margaret laughed, nodding and clasping her hands together on the cluttered desk between them. “No, that’s not why I’m talking to you. I mean, it sort of is but...” She paused. “You’ve done office work before?”

“Ten years,” Regina replied immediately, smooth professionalism washing back over her again.

“Yes, that’s right,” Mary Margaret nodded. “You were the floor manager?”

“Correct...” Regina stared at the mayor, almost sure she knew where this was going.

Without further ado, Mary Margaret leaned across the desk towards her almost co-conspiratorially. “How would you like to start helping manage a town instead?” Regina opened her mouth, but she was cut off by the mayor holding up a pale hand and shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain.” She paused, meeting Regina’s eyes with a professional smile. “I’ve been mayor of Storybrooke for most of my adult life, married to the town sheriff for at least half of that. We adopted Emma when she was fourteen and raising a teenager is no easy task, let me tell you.”

“Don’t ever say that to me again,” Regina deadpanned, although she was listening carefully to the mayor’s proposition.

Mary Margaret chuckled. “Don’t worry, Regina, you’ve got a good few years of peace left. Anyway, what I mean to say is that I’ve devoted a lot of my time to this town, and I’m nowhere _near_ ready to step down yet. But the truth is I am getting older, as is my husband, and it would be nice to... Lighten the load, let’s say.”

“So I would be... Assisting you?”

“Not quite assisting. More like... Sharing what _I do._ ” Mary Margaret explained. “You wouldn’t have the title – although I’m sure in a few years time when I _am_ ready to step down you’d be in prime position to run – but you’d do a lot of the paperwork when I need you to, I’ll give you all the jobs I can’t handle myself. Meanwhile, you can still come in daily to help Emma, or take her to the hospital as usual, but I’ll be paying you for the new tasks. Of course, you don’t have to say yes but –”

“Definitely.” Regina paused, shocked. She didn’t know she was going to say that and yet now... Now it seemed perfect. The mayor stared at her wide-eyed. _Completely perfect_. “I’d be happy to.”

“Thank you!” Mary Margaret breathed, wide white smile spreading over her face. “I swear, Regina, you are a _godsend_. For all of us.” She swallowed her grin, beginning again. “You’ll still be on flexi-time, for Henry. I mean, most of the paperwork side you could do at home –”

“That’s perfect, Ms Nolan.” Regina assured her. The strangest feeling was washing over her, the unfathomable contentedness of everything falling into place. “Really, perfect.”

“All due respect, Regina, but my daughter is falling in love with you.” Mary Margaret told her genuinely. “I think we’re a bit past _Ms Nolan_.”

-0-

By the time Emma heard Regina’s key twisting in the front door, a flurry of butterflies were beating up a storm inside her stomach. It was stupid – they’d seen each other only a few days ago – but she couldn’t help her heart from speeding up and relaxing all at once at the sound of her ridiculous heeled boots clacking against the hardwood floors in the hallway. 

“Hey!” Emma called, tasting the word in her mouth. She frowned, forcing her fingers to clumsily stab down on the right buttons to wheel herself out into the hallway and meet her. 

“Good morning,” Regina greeted brightly, turning to close the front door behind her and pull her keys from the lock. Emma could tell instantly she was in a good mood; an easy hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, her hands moved lightly and freely as they shut the door and dropped her keys back in place. 

“What’re you so happy about?” Emma asked, wheeling herself down the hallway into her room beside Regina and looking up at her. 

“Didn’t your mother tell you?” Regina replied lightly, holding the bedroom door for her and following suit, laying her coat on the side. 

“Oh,” Emma realised, wishing she was able to smack herself. “Right. _That_.” She flashed a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t ask you sooner. She’s been drooling over your business credentials for months.” 

“I tend to have that effect on people,” Regina deadpanned. She spun around, flashing Emma a brilliant smile. “So. What are we doing today?” 

“I don’t know,” Emma mustered the best puppy dog eyes she could. “It’s pretty cold. I could really do with some nice hot soup?”

Regina rolled her eyes pointedly at her, but Emma caught the smile on her lips as she turned out the bedroom door to put it on. Her soup had been a favourite of Emma’s all throughout winter: hot, thick, flavoured just right – and, with the right obscure invention, it was something she could eat by herself. 

When Regina returned, going about fixing the tray and the aids to her chair like it was second nature, Emma watched her, wondering how many more days like this they’d have: full, uninterrupted days. She knew that if they were going to pursue this it probably wasn’t best to spend all day every day together, and it probably wasn’t a good idea for that to be Regina’s actual paid job. She’d spoken with Mary Margaret about it and she knew Regina would still come in a lot, take her to the hospital, cook for her. She knew she’d probably do a lot of her paperwork here in the annex with her. She knew they’d still see each other more than more ordinary couples did at the start of their relationship, but it would still be less than before. 

It was going to take some getting used to, this progression from tragedy to normality. 

Emma cleared her throat. “So,” She asked, fingers twitching against the armrests of her chair. “When do you start? I mean, doing all that mayor stuff with my mom?” 

“Officially, next week.” Regina informed her, brow furrowing as she struggled with one of the clips. “But she’ll probably start laying some groundwork, maybe give me some paperwork in the next few days.” She smiled, gaze darting up to meet Emma’s for a moment. “I’m in as usual until Friday.”

“Cool,” Emma nodded. She caught Regina’s eye again, and flashed a grin despite herself. “You know she’s grooming you for when she quits – not that I’m sure she ever will. Pretty sure she’s already decided you’re gonna be her daughter-in-law.”

Regina shot her a look, but that smile was still fixed on her lips. She finished setting up Emma’s meal, straightening and brushing down her turtleneck before sitting down elegantly on the end of the bed beside her. “I’ll look out for chain emails and recipe sharing.” She told her seriously. 

Emma grinned, taking a sip of the soup. It was hot and fragrant, warming her from the inside out. “Seriously, she likes you.” She assured her. “A lot.” 

“I’m glad.” Regina nodded, flashing another smile. Beyond the window, a curtain of winter sunlight spilled out from behind a cloud, shining in her hair and her eyes. “How’s the soup?”

“Incredible, as always.” Emma smiled gratefully. “I think we may have a contender against your lasagne.” 

“Hmmm... If you really want a single winner you’re going to have to consult Henry. He’s convinced my fish fingers and ketchup is superior.” 

“Kid has a point.” Emma grinned. She paused. “So Henry’s still cool, with all of this?”

“More than _cool_.” Regina told her. “He’s more excited than he was when Robin bought him a dirt bike.”

“What’s a Marvel nerd gonna do with a dirt bike anyway?” Emma joked, trying to put herself at ease. It didn’t work. She took a breath, carefully considering how best to put it. Her finger drummed anxiously against the arms of her chair. “What about your family?” She swallowed, eyes uncertainly seeking Regina’s. “Have you told them about... me, or...?”

Regina stiffened _immediately_. 

Emma watched her defences spring up, from the way her dark eyes darkened to the way her spine straightened against her chair, the way her manicured hand curled tight on her knee. The brunette opened her mouth, dark hair shining with winter sunlight from the window. “My parents know a little.” Regina paused, red lips pulled into a tight line. “I haven’t really spoken to them since Christmas.”

“Okay...” Emma began. 

Before she could say anything else, a brilliant white smile appeared on Regina’s face. “Anyway, your mother’s going to take a day to show me the ropes next week. You don’t have to worry about losing me just yet.”

“Right,” Emma sighed. Her eyes flicked over the brunette once, twice – she was still sitting stiffly under the flow of the sun, fake smile plastered on her face like it had been the first few weeks. Regina knew what she was trying to do. _Has there ever been a more obvious subject change?_

She knew Regina was happy with her mom’s offer, and she wanted to celebrate that but... Still, something had been rubbing her the wrong way ever since – ever since her first week, to be honest. It was just like an itch she couldn’t scratch, a whisper in the back of her mind, a tug in her chest. A desire to know more, just to be let in a few more inches. Regina had _cried_ that day at the Christmas fair, and Emma could guess and assume all she liked but she’d never heard her say why. 

She’d heard one _sentence_ about Regina’s mother and filled in the blanks based on the tiniest change in her face and the way she held herself. She’d heard bits and pieces about Robin and doubts about Henry that she was still struggling to piece together. 

And she knew it wasn’t her place or even her right to pry when Regina had been nothing but patient and respectful with her, even in the height of her anger. But she just really, _really_ wanted to be able to return the favour. Particularly when she knew she needed it. 

“Regina,” Emma spoke softly, as if approaching some scared creature that might run away at the slightest threat. Regina apparently noticed the change in her voice, because she looked up sharply, cautiously. Her dark eyes shone.

“What?” That rich voice was wary, tense. 

Emma couldn’t tear herself away from those dark eyes, and that was what helped her gather the courage to ask, softly, gently, honestly, “You were _crying_ , that day.”

Regina swallowed; Emma could see the muscles bob and contract in her throat. She was avoiding her eye. “I think you know why.”

Sighing, the blonde tilted her head slightly, browns knitting into the slightest of frowns. She tried to keep her voice soft and sure, green eyes trained on Regina’s brown. “Do I?”

With a slow inhale, Regina raised her head to look at Emma properly. Her dark eyes were wide and shining with honesty, lips slightly parted. She took a long time, to get the words out. “I was happy.” She paused, eyes glancing down into her lap for a moment before darting back up, brimming with so much. “I – I am happy. It was all a bit much.”

Something in Emma’s chest shattered. She rushed her next words, desperate to put her at ease. “I understand.”

“Then can we stop talking about it?” Regina replied, hint of an edge in her voice. 

“You know I know you and I just want you to be comfortable.” Emma sighed. Green eyes found brown. “You do know that, right?”

It was silent for a beat, two. 

“Of course.” Regina nodded eventually, heavy smile slowly pulling at her lips. Her dark eyes dropped down to her lap for a long time. When she spoke again, her voice was clear and honest. “I know I haven’t been as open with you as you have with me,” The brunette began slowly. “I know you’d like me to. The truth is I want that too, it’s just... It is _not easy._ ”

“I know.” Emma reassured her, tongue darting out to wet her lips. The right words danced on the tip of her tongue. “We both remember how hard it was for me, how _painful_ it was.” She swallowed, green eyes finding brown earnestly and refusing to look away. “Just as long as you know that it would be an _honour_ to help you the way you’ve helped me.”

“Emma...” Regina sighed, dark eyes shining as she leaned over to take one of Emma’s hands in hers, threading their fingers firmly together. “You already have.”

“Babe,” Emma softened. “Come here.”

Grateful smile washing over her face, Regina moved closer across the covers, laid her head against Emma and sighed. Eyes falling shut, tight against the world, Emma rested her head against Regina’s and breathed in the smell of her hair, perfume and apple shampoo and everything that made her skin feel like skin again. 

“’Gina?” Emma asked. Regina raised her head, wide eyes looking up at her in query. “I want to hug you.”

“You are a _child_ ,” Regina informed her, but there was a hint of laughter in her voice again, and she was already moving closer to wind Emma’s arms around her. Emma just watched her, until she was settled back against her, sliding her own arm around Emma as best she could with the awkward position of the chair. They stayed like that for a while, soft and quiet and perfectly content while the breeze shook the winter frost off the flowers outside the window. 

After a moment, Regina froze in her arms, drawing back a few inches with her eyebrows shooting skyward. “Did you just call me _babe?_ ”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?” Emma grinned. Her eyes caught Regina’s, happiness dancing through her chest. “Can’t hit a girl in a wheelchair.”

Regina widened her eyes at her. “Do not push your luck.”

“ _Babe_.” Emma raised her eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. 

“I’m not a nice person,” Regina warned her. She was leaning back away from her, but her hands were still resting firmly on Emma’s shoulders, where she could feel them, which was always “I will do it.”

Emma just laughed. She jerked her head back down towards her chest. “Come here.” 

She did.

“And just so you know, I’m here for you whenever you need to talk about your mom or _being_ a mom and Henry or Robin, whatever you need, okay? Now how about a movie? I’ll even let you pick.”

Outside, the first streaks of rain began to patter against the window.


	19. Touching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Deep breaths. This one is a bit of a rollercoaster, and it was incredibly emotional to write, even more emotional to read back but hopefully it’s worth it and you all get something out of it. 
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your support and kindness!

Lights danced against the dark red wine, making patterns shine in the glass. All around, the low buzz of conversation and clinking cutlery filled the warm air, the gentle melody of an old love song playing in the background. The air was rich and scented with spices and oil – she’d forgotten how good the food was here. And Regina had never even tried it, which was why they were there in the first place. _Something like that_.

Emma lifted her eyes from her food, feeling a smile quirk over her lips and dance in her chest as she met Regina’s gaze. Her dark eyes were shining in the gentle candlelight of the restaurant, expertly lined with makeup. Emma paused, words dancing on the tip of her tongue. “Told you so.”

“Okay,” Regina’s rich voice was full of happiness and acceptance. “Good luck trying to get me to admit it past tonight but...” Dark eyes lifted to hers. “You were right.”

“Right?” Emma exclaimed. She grinned, nodded. “Caravaggio’s. Hands down the _best_ damn date restaurant in the country. How’s your pretentious city restaurant now?” 

“Don’t push it.” Regina warned, perfectly coiffed eyebrows raising pointedly. An elegant hand closed around the stem of her wine glass. Emma watched the brunette raise it to her red lips and take a sip, dark hair shining. When she put the glass back down, her eyes met Emma’s. “This was an excellent move by the way. Joking about romantic restaurants, sending those flowers to my house. I think you know what you’re doing.”

“All I know right now that I want to spend more time with you.” Emma told her honestly. “But, you know,” She smiled, coyly shrugging her shoulders up as much as she could. “Once I realized we’ve never actually had a fancy date without my _parents_ around...” She gave her a look. “I did tell you I wanted to do this properly.”

“You certainly did.” Regina mouth quirked into an approving smile. “You’re smoother than I gave you credit for.”

“Damn right,” Emma affirmed, grinning. She paused, raising an eyebrow towards their wine glasses. “I’ll toast to that.”

“I’ll toast, but you’ll have to think of a better reason.” Regina allowed coyly. _Fucking hell_ , Emma thought, watching the play of the candlelight against her skin and hair. She lifted her glass again, raising it into the space between them. “How about...” Her eyes met Emma’s. “To new beginnings.”

Emma smiled, watching the red wine drink in the light before she realised Regina was actually doing a toast. She glanced towards her own glass, and a laugh burst from her throat. “Yeah, babe, you’re gonna have to do that for me,” 

“Do – oh, right,” Regina nodded, realising what she meant, and reached across the table to take Emma’s drink in her other hand without another word. “To new beginnings,” she repeated, clinking their glasses together between them.

“To new beginnings!” Emma affirmed, watching the glasses touch and feeling the ringing in her chest. 

Regina took another sip of her own drink before setting it down, and offered Emma her glass, but she shook her head. She wasn’t doing it for the drink anyway. She was already drunk – drunk on warmth and dizzy with happiness.

This past week had been the first that Regina had spent shadowing the mayor – filing, faxing, sitting the town council – which meant her time spent in Emma’s annex had been definitively less. They’d had time: Regina would come and spend a few hours with her, probably cook something or wheel her somewhere she needed to go, talk, read her a chapter of that godawful spy book. It was nice, in a way: it was nice to have time to miss her. But their new, more normal hours together made Emma even more determined to do this properly, to do this right. Because whatever it was, Regina deserved it. Truth be told, she deserved more than Emma could ever give her. But _hell_ if she wasn’t going to try.

So maybe it was a little over the top to order a dozen red roses sent to Regina’s house (apparently Henry had opened the door to them, and taken them with a whoop of excitement). Maybe it was weirding her out a little wearing one of her old dresses she didn’t know Mary Margaret had kept after the accident. And maybe the fancy restaurant was a little cliché. But she wanted to at least try and do this justice. She had to try, at least. 

About ten minutes after their toast she started to feel people staring. 

Emma swallowed, feeling the eyes on her and staring back down at the tablecloth. There had been a slightly awkward commotion when they’d arrived, and the waiter had to get rid of the second chair at the table to make room for her wheelchair instead, but Regina had given him what was potentially the most terrifying death stare Emma had ever seen and he’d just rushed to do it without a word. 

She was pretty sure Regina hadn’t noticed these ones. 

She swallowed hard around the lump suddenly lodged in her throat. It was only a few stares, she reasoned with herself. Just a few pitying glances. Awkward glances. Nervous eyes darting back over the mechanical black chair supporting her, voices lowered and hushed. Tongue darting out to wet her lips, Emma stared into her lap. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot, skin crawling with the feel of eyes on her. Pity directed at her, coming at her in waves. 

_Oh god_ , Emma thought, spike of discomfort knifing through her chest. She knew the set of feelings creeping up on her better than anything. She recognised how suddenly they appeared with no warning, threatening to pull her under. She thought they’d gone away. _Please no. Not here. Not now_. It was already happening. Suddenly, everyone in the whole world seemed to be judging her, pitying her, staring, _pitying, pitying, pitying_. Her chest felt too tight. 

_No_ , Emma realised, _not just me_. 

Heart thudding in her chest, she found the courage to stare up at Regina, who was sipping her drink happily unaware of the eyes on them. On her. _They’re pitying Regina_ , Emma realised, fear writhing like a mass of snakes in her belly. _They’re looking at her and wondering why such a beautiful, sophisticated, perfect fucking woman is sitting opposite a useless cripple._ Her hands ached to tighten into fists on their own. 

_An inanimate object_. 

“Emma?” Emma blinked, head jerking up sharply as Regina’s soft, rich voice pulled her from her thoughts. The brunette was staring at her, fork paused between her manicured fingers. Her dark eyes were wide and searching, shining with concern. “Emma? Are you okay?”

“What?” Emma swallowed; her mouth was dry. _Pity, pity._ She couldn’t think of anything to say. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Regina didn’t look convinced, perfect brow twisting into a frown as she studied her. The lights from the candles danced in her eyes, turning them to coffee and gold.

_God_. 

She couldn’t be there anymore. She had to get away, away from it all, had to hide somewhere in the dark where she couldn’t see her reflection in the wine glass or see the pity or feel it in her tight itching chest. Go, go, she had to – she couldn’t. Struggling to control her voice in her throat, Emma avoided her eye and managed to press down on the wheelchair button to draw back from the table a few inches.“Come on, Regina, let’s just go.”

“What?” 

“Call the waiter over, I’m paying.” Emma told her, looking down at her half-empty plate. She couldn’t face those eyes. She couldn’t breathe. “I just really don’t want to be here right now.”

“Why, what’s happening?” Regina's brows twisted in surprise, big dark eyes wide and confused. “Talk to me Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Regina.” Emma snapped. She hated how edgy she sounded but she just had to get away. “I don’t want to talk about it. You should understand that, I didn’t pressure you when you didn’t want to.”

“I’m not pressuring you! I –” Regina broke off, dark eyes glinting hurt and hurting in the soft candlelight. Her red lips pressed into a tight line. “Fine. Let’s go. Waiter – can we have the bill, please?”

Emma sighed, fighting back tears and staring into her lap as Regina paid the waiter for her. She shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have made that dig about understanding, when she was the only person in the whole world who did, or had until just now. Stupid, stupid. That last comment, why had she said that? It was unfair, and untrue besides. 

Regina stood sharply, lines of her face defensive and tight as she quickly gathered her handbag and Emma’s purse. Emma shifted her heated neck awkwardly against her chair when she stepped around to take the handles. At least she didn’t have to look at her as she wheeled her through the dreamily-lit restaurant out into the parking lot, where the night wind was blowing about the odd streak of rain. Handfuls of blonde hair skittered across her face, her neck. 

They’d taken her parents minivan, for wheelchair convenience. Emma avoided Regina’s eye as she clicked the safety contraptions into place. Once she’d stowed the ramp away and silently climbed into the drivers seat, Emma let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. 

Regina’s eyes never left the road as she reversed out of the car park, pulling onto the dark road back to the house. Her voice was strained and tight. “Now do you want to talk about what happened back there?”

“Stop, Regina,” Emma sighed: she didn’t trust herself to say any more. Her voice sounded traitorously snappy and defensive to her own ears. Her eyes were already burning with the effort of keeping in the tears. 

“Fine.” Regina replied tightly, knuckles paling on the driving wheel. Emma could see her eyes reflected in the rain-spattered windscreen, the tight line of her mouth. “Shut me out. It’s your choice. Just don’t expect to try and talk me into spilling my soul out again any time soon.” 

Emma didn’t say anything, just leaned her head against the steamy car window and stared out at the road and the lights of streetlamps and other cars flying by under the stars, the rain spitting through the darkness. The silence between them was palpable, filling the car with uneasy tension. 

_Your fault_ , the voice in her head told her. _It’s your fault._

She breathed in, but the air in the car was warm and thick, and only made her feel worse. Emma let her eyes fall closed, trying to drown her thoughts in the rush of traffic on the road, but all she could hear was her heartbeat, thump-thump-thumping so accusingly. The darkness behind her eyes didn’t hold the same appeal it did before. 

It seemed like a thousand years before they pulled into the driveway of the mayor’s house, the rain letting up for a moment as Regina killed the engine and pulled out the keys with a jangle. The brunette didn’t say anything as she opened the door and stalked around to open up the back of the minivan, silently unfastening the safety clips while Emma tried not to look at her. 

Regina silently stepped around behind her to push her down the unfolded ramp onto the gravel drive. Fresh cold air hit Emma’s heated skin, night wind winding through her hair and stinging her cheeks. It smelled of night, and rain, and winter. Regina locked the car and pushed her through the gate and the back garden down to her annex – Emma guessed going through the main house meant waking up or disturbing her parents, something she really did not want to do right now.   
Regina knew. For that, at least, she was grateful. 

Quickly unlocking the annex door, the brunette switched the light on and wheeled Emma into the golden warmth of the hallway as if she couldn’t wait to leave. _Look what you’ve done._ Regina wheeled her down the hallway, door slamming shut on the cold winter night behind them. _Ruined everything, you’ve ruined everything again_. 

Inside her bedroom once again, Regina helped her onto her bed and positioned the adjustment remote for her and then quickly began busying herself getting her keys and scarf and purse together, with movements sharp and crisp. Anger was written clearly in the tight lines of her face. Her heels clicked harshly against the floor as she moved, formal dress tightening as her posture stiffened. She was just heading towards the door when Emma finally found her voice. 

“Wait, Regina,” The words felt harsh and tight in her throat. She remembered when she’d shouted at her before, the last time that inner switch flipped back to anger and self loathing. She remembered calling to her and rushing to apologise. She’d made it to the hallway then. _Maybe we are making progress after all._

Wordlessly, Regina spun on her heels in the doorway, one hand still resting on the handle. The make up around her eyes was fading, but they were dark and wide and shining at her nonetheless. Her lips were set in a tight line. “What?” 

Emma stared at her, a thousand and one feelings flooding through her stomach. Green eyes found brown and her defences crumpled; her voice was hoarse and faraway. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Something flickered in Regina’s eyes. Her lips tightened into a line as she stared at her, hard and soft and unapologetic. She swallowed, hand falling from the doorknob. “Then _talk to me_.”

Emma faltered. She glanced down, trying to ignore the shaky feeling building up inside her chest, inside her heart. She swallowed, and somehow she found the courage to raise her head again and meet Regina’s eyes. The brunette still lingered in her doorway, looking hurt and expectant and god, she just had to be brave and be honest again. 

“They were all talking about me.” Emma finally said, voice low and restrained.

Regina didn’t miss a beat. “Who was?”

“Everyone.” Emma stressed. “All those people in the restaurant, they were all looking at me and you and talking about me and –”

“Emma, what are you talking about?” A small furrow appeared between her dark brows. “Nobody was staring about you.”

“Yes they were, they always do,” Emma sighed. “You don’t understand,”

“No, I don’t. So tell me.” Regina said, somewhere between a demand and a plea. Her voice was thin and strained. She took a breath, and when she spoke again she was stronger, more resolute. “Nobody was looking at you. Nobody was talking about you. They didn't care about us. They just wanted to eat their meal in peace.”

“Maybe, but that’s what it felt like!” Emma’s rising voice cracked like a whip. “That’s how it feels every day when I think about how _good_ you are and how _anybody_ , any random human being on any street in the world could give you more than me!” 

The words hung thickly in the air between them, stinging. 

“And what if I don’t want more than you?” Regina asked, eventually. Her voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper. “What if I can’t see anything more than you?” 

She stepped closer softly, reached forward to take Emma’s face in her hands: Emma turned away, trying not to let her see the look on her face. 

“I just – I know I'm not but - I just feel so _useless_.” Emma swore the last word softly. Her voice trembled low. “I can’t do anything and you’re so much, Regina, you’re _so_ much and I can’t touch you, I can’t hold you while we sleep, I can’t put my arms around you when we kiss, I can’t even fucking kiss you without asking you to crouch down first, I can’t touch your face or your hair and I just...” She turned her head away sharply, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears. “God, Regina, all I want is to be able to give you everything you deserve, everything you need and I don’t – I can’t -”

“Oh Emma... You silly woman,” Regina told her softly. “What I need... is you.” 

That did it. Emma swallowed again, breathing in harshly as the first tear fell down the side of her face. She turned away, trying to brush it away with her hair before she brought herself to meet Regina’s eyes again. “You need someone that can touch you.” Her voice, barely more than a broken whisper in her ears brought a flush of hot shame to her cheeks. “I –”

She tried not to look at her, but she could hear Regina’s breathing and smell her perfume, the perfume she’d smelled that first day when Regina had been hard and impregnable as a distant castle, an unattainable thing that hadn’t saved and ruined her life all at once. 

“No.” Emma couldn’t help looking up at the sound of Regina’s voice. Her jaw was clenched tight as she shook her head. “No.”

“What are you –” Emma was cut off by the sudden weight and warmth of Regina flipping her hair back and climbing into her lap. Her knees were pressed either side of her thighs. Emma’s heart beat faster, as if close proximity to the brunette reinvigorated it, like a metal detector finding gold. She swallowed hard.

Regina’s hands were suddenly gentle and warm on the sides of her face, making her look at her. Emma gave up trying not to. Those deep honey eyes shone, trying to tell her something that words couldn’t. Their eyelashes were almost touching. 

“No.” Regina repeated. Her voice wavered as if she was about to cry, but there was determination in her line of her mouth, her jaw. Soft and strong.

“What...” Emma trailed off as Regina shook her head again, blinking away tears. One hand left her face, reaching down to grasp Emma’s limp one. Breathing in sharply, the brunette brought Emma’s hand up to her face. Their fingers were intertwined, but Emma’s palm was down and facing Regina’s cheek. The skin was soft and warm beneath her hand. 

Emma managed to curl her fingertips just enough so that they brushed over the Regina’s face almost of their own accord. That clumsy movement, that almost freedom made the shaking thing in her chest break all over again, but Regina’s eyes were holding onto hers, desperate to keep her looking at her. Her hand tightened through hers, and she brought it along the line of her jaw. 

Again, Emma fought to channel all the strength and will and life she could into her stupid fucking muscles until she felt the skin beneath her fingers, clumsily tracing the line of her cheekbone. Another tear fell down her cheek – Regina caught it with a stroke of her free thumb. Dark eyes tracked hers, luminous in the night.

Determination and pain and need and anger surged through her, until she found the strength to brush her fingers slightly down the side of her face. Regina’s eyes tracked hers, brimming with ears, helping her, guiding her hands over her face, her lips, her hair, mapping out her every detail. Helping her do everything she wanted. 

After a minute or a millennium had passed, Regina brushed a stand of hair back from her face and settled her head in the crook of her neck, pulling their arms around each other in a way that made Emma’s heart feel more real in her chest than it had in a long time. The brunette exhaled slowly. “I’m staying the night, by the way.” Her voice was soft, and left no room for argument.

“But Henry –”

“I told you. Kathryn’s watching him for the night.” Regina reminded her firmly, pulling back. The look in her eyes was resolute. “I’m not leaving you.”

And she didn’t. 

“Okay,” Emma managed, voice sounding small and hoarse but familiar in her own ears. She breathed out slowly, and let Regina settle back into her, wrapping them around each other and laying her head down against her shoulder. She sighed, dropping her face down into the top of Regina’s head, breathing in the smell of apples and perfume and home. “Okay.” 

There was a heavy feeling in the air, settling over them like dust as they fell deeper into each other. Emma couldn’t be sure, but she thought it might be love.


	20. The Magic Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I am so sorry I didn't manage to post this yesterday, college got in the way. This one is mostly Emma again, but don’t worry. There is more of Regina, her job update, and most importantly Henry coming to you very soon! 
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your kindness and support.

When Emma woke up the next morning, faint sunlight was flooding in through the crack in the curtains and pooling golden on the floor. She was slumped against the headboard of her bed, covers tangled around her ankles. The first thing she was aware of was Regina’s head tucked in the crook of her neck, arms threaded around her, weight of her body soft and warm. She was pretty sure she was still asleep – she could feel her warm, rhythmic breaths against her skin, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Emma’s heavy eyelids drifted closed again, face dropping down to nose at the top of her head, the dark rumpled hair that smelled like sleep and shampoo and everything good. Warmth spilled through her chest. She couldn’t tighten her arms around her, couldn’t stroke down the hair that stuck up around her ear, but she could see her nestled close against her, feel her hair against her cheek in the dull gold light of morning. 

Emma exhaled slowly, breathing in the new day. 

Last night was... a blur. Looking back, she could see she’d worked herself up over nothing. Nobody had been staring at her any more than usual, and the only pity she’d felt had come from herself, the deep dark place she had to acknowledge still existed, even if it was smaller than it had been before. It was only natural it hung around, sometimes. Depression, she reflected, didn’t just shut off like a light switch. It was more like... a dimmer. One she was turning down, gradually. 

What had happened after seemed like something out of a dream. 

She glanced down at Regina, watching the morning sunlight creep over her sleep-mussed hair, shining in the dark strands and turning the soft bare skin at her neck to gold. _What if I don’t want more than you?_ Her words echoed through Emma’s mind. _What if I can’t see anything more than you?_ She’d helped her touch her. That was all she’d wanted to do, and she made it happen. 

_God_. Emma nudged the hair above her ear with her cheek, wondering for the thousandth time how anyone could be so... Regina moaned sleepily, burrowing closer into Emma’s neck. Her back stretched, pushing herself further against her. Emma looked down at her as she shifted against her, seeing her body slowly wake up, piece by piece. She cleared her throat softly. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Regina mumbled into her neck, lingering there for a moment before yawning audibly and leaning back in Emma’s arms. In the sunlight, her sleep-softened features seemed young, open. Her dark eyes flickered up to meet Emma’s green, looking at her wordlessly. They stayed like that for a few moments, both reluctant to break the silence.

“Regina, about last night...” Emma began, finally. She breathed in, finding Regina’s eyes and wincing awkwardly. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was just sitting there, the next I was freaking out about nothing, I just...” She conjured a weak smile, hoping to put one on Regina’s lips. “Sorry.” 

“Emma.” Regina’s dark eyes were honest and alert even as her voice was still rough from sleep. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“I ruined our date.”

“Our _date_?” Something between a laugh and a scoff escaped Regina’s lips, half smiling. “Emma... Your mental health comes first, no matter what.”

Emma swallowed, finding the grace to nod. “Thank you.”

“No,” Regina shook her head softly. She breathed in, delicate fingers tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind Emma’s ear. “I should be the one apologising, I was a bitch to you before you told me what was going on. And I’m sorry. That’s just how I respond to...” She paused, dark eyes turning downward for a moment. “I’m working on it.”

“You’re perfect.” Emma spoke without thinking, eyes never leaving the brunette's face.

Regina looked at her strangely, dark eyes wide and shining. After a moment, she breathed in, hands resting on Emma’s shoulders as she shook her head, small incredulous smile on her lips. “I am _far_ from –”

“You are.” Emma couldn’t look away. Her heart thumped faster in her chest. “Regina, I think...”

“What?” 

“I think I...”

Suddenly, the blaring tuneless ring of someone’s phone started ringing across the room, jerking them both away from each other. Emma’s heart jolted into her stomach. She paused, staring down at the rumpled covers of her bed as Regina climbed off her to rifle through her bag, the other side of the room. _What the hell was I about to say?_ Emma swallowed, heart racing. 

“Damn. Alarm.” Regina sighed, holding her phone up. The lines of her face creased into a frown. “Look, Emma, I have to go but promise me you won’t feel bad that you had a perfectly normal response to a trigger you didn’t know was going to –”

“Regina. I’m good.” Emma assured her, mustering a small smile. “Thanks to you.”

Regina nodded gratefully, understandingly, before she went. 

As always, she left in a whirlwind, and left a whirlwind in her wake. 

-0-

It was two days later Emma found herself waiting outside Granny’s in the chilly winter wind, trying hard to settle the nerves in her stomach. 

All around, the outside tables were empty, and most of the chairs had been folded against the building. Inside, a faint buzz of conversation and clinking cutlery could be heard. The breeze off the sea was fierce today, blowing in down main street and whipping her loose hair across her face, carrying the briny salt smell of the docks. _It’s just a quick coffee before her shift_ , she told herself. _Nothing is gonna go wrong._

Emma swallowed hard, fingers twitching nervously at the arms of her chair. She could see her knuckles turning red from the cold. They’d agreed to meet for coffee at midday – her watch said that was two minutes ago. A single car drove by on the road, trailing smoke. She ducked her head, burrowing her nose further into her scarf. _You’re gonna be fine_ , she told herself. _You’ve talked over the phone before. How different is it, really?_

“Hey stranger,” A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Emma’s head jerked up, heart thudding in her chest. Ruby’s face was hard to read as she came up the path to the diner, hands buried in the pockets of her oversized fluffy coat. Her cheeks were as red as her shoes and her lipstick, but whether that was from the cold or the situation Emma didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. She swallowed, searching for the right thing to say before managing a simple, “Hey.” 

Ruby stopped in front of her, taking a breath and shuffling her feet. Heat rushed to Emma’s face. For a second, everything was awkward. Eventually, Ruby lifted her gaze back to Emma, conjuring a well-meaning smile. “You wanna... Go inside?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, watching her breath fog in the air in front of her. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Okay,” Ruby nodded again, and then hastily walked around to take Emma’s chair and wheel her inside. The bell above the door chimed as they swung it open. A rush of warm, coffee-scented air flooded over her, thawing her frozen hands. 

Emma glanced around; there were a few customers dotted around, sipping coffee, reading papers. Nobody she really _knew_ knew. None of their old friends. That was good. Behind the counter, one of Ruby’s co-workers was brewing coffee and pretending not to notice them. She breathed in, warm air filling her with courage. “Come on,” She swallowed. “Let’s get a table.”

Wordlessly, Ruby pushed one of the nearby chairs around a different table, making room for Emma’s chair before sitting down opposite. Before things could get awkward again, a waitress came over and took their orders. By the time she’d gone, anxiety had built up like static behind Emma’s eyes and in her throat. Despite the cutlery clinking and the coffee machine whirring and clicking behind them, it seemed that everything was completely, agonisingly silent. 

“God, Ruby, I’m so sorry for everything I –” Emma blurted, the same moment Ruby winced and rushed, “You don’t have to apologize –”

They both fell silent again, awkwardness building like tension over the table top between them. Ruby’s wide eyes met hers, lips pressed into an awkward half-smile. 

Emma cleared her throat and resolved to be the bigger person. “Look, I know I was an asshole. I get it if you regret what you told Regina and never want to see me again, let alone be my friend. Hell, I wouldn’t. But the thing is there’s a lot of stuff happening right now that I’d never have thought ever could again.” 

Suddenly, her throat felt very tight.

“I had dinner with my parents last night. My mom was smiling the whole way through. She looked happy. And God, Ruby, _Regina_... I know you’ve only met her once but she’s incredible. I like her. I really like her. Shit, I...” Emma broke off, shaking off thoughts of the other morning and steeling herself. “I want to do things. I want to eat nice food and tell bad jokes. I want to be your friend again, Ruby. If you’ll forgive me. If –”

“Say no more, Swan.” Her friend’s voice was calm and level. Emma’s heart held it’s breath. “I get it.”

“You do?” Emma breathed, staring at her across the Formica. 

“Yeah.” There was a long pause; Ruby’s pale face remained still and impassive for a long time, and then slowly, surely, broke out in a smile. “Water under the bridge and all that.”

Relief washed over her. “Oh my god, Ruby...”

“Seriously. When you called me that day I was surprised, I’m not going to lie. But mostly I was just glad. I know we haven’t talked much since then but I don’t want this to be awkward or uncomfortable.” Ruby’s voice wavered a little as it cut off. She paused, fiddling with a lock of red-streaked brown hair before meeting Emma’s eyes again. “I just want my friend back.”

“So do I,” Emma admitted.

Abruptly, Ruby stood up, chair scraping the hardwood floor as she all but leapt out of it, rushing around the table to throw her arms around Emma in an awkward, tight hug that said everything else they needed to say. Emma smiled into Ruby’s dyed hair, warmth tingling in her chest. She smelled the same, like makeup and pine and cherry shampoo. As she ducked away, smiling, Emma couldn’t help but realise how much she’d missed her. All of her old friends. Ruby, and Dorothy, and Graham...

The waitress came over balancing a tray in her hand and set their drinks carefully on the table as Ruby sat herself back down, smoothing down stray tangles of hair. 

“So,” Emma couldn’t stop herself asking the next question even if she wanted to. “What about the others, are they... Do they still think I’m a self absorbed asshole or...?”

“They’re fine. Seriously, I told your girlfriend to tell you that.” A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Ruby’s lips. “They would all be happy to have you back in their lives as long as you would be too.”

“Really?” Emma’s heart softened. She felt almost dizzy, overwhelmed by how comfortable and easy and normal this felt. Could it be possible that while she’d sunk into isolation and misery, the rest of the world had carried on turning as normal? That she hadn’t actually altered or ruined anything she couldn’t fix now, with a smile and a coffee and some hard truths. _God_...

“Really!” Ruby assured her. “So next time I call you and invite you out with all of us you’re going to come. And it’s going to be okay.” 

“Thank you...” Emma trailed off, unsure what to say. What could she say? 

“It’s nothing, I told you. Water under the bridge. We love you and want what’s best for you.” Ruby reminded her. “Besides. You have to tell me about Regina...” Ruby flashed a wolfish grin, expertly shaped eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “I want to hear everything.”

“You tell me. You met her.” Emma paused, turning serious again before her eyes darted up to meet Ruby’s. “What did you think?”

“I think she’s way out of your league,” Ruby joked, shooting her a look. “You’re lucky I’m back with Dorothy.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, gaping before spreading into a grin. “You and Dorothy got back together?”

“Yeah. Six months.” Ruby told her, raising her eyebrows and breathing in. She looked nervous, and happy. “We’re going steady again.”

“Wow! Oh my god, Ruby, that’s awesome.”

“I know. Look at me, growing up. Monogamous and everything.” Ruby took a sip of her coffee and flashed a grin. “But we were talking about _you._ ” She grinned. “Little birdy told me you took her to the charity ball. You danced with her?”

Emma sighed theatrically, shooting Ruby a look. “Let me guess, that little birdy was wearing a pink cardigan and a mayor’s badge.”

“You got me.” Ruby shrugged, and then paused, a genuine smile spreading over her face. “You mom’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. And you... You are too.”

“Yeah,” Emma swallowed, nodding and feeling something spark in her chest and her stomach. “I am.”

Ruby paused a second, steaming coffee cup held between her hands. She took another sip, eyes meeting Emma’s again. “So if you don’t mind me asking...” She raised a dark eyebrow questioningly. “Is it serious?”

“I - don’t know. It _feels_ serious.” Emma felt her brow furrow as she considered. _Are we?_ “After we kissed that first time we agreed to just see what happened but we’ve been dating pretty openly since but it’s more than that, you know? Calling it dating makes it sound so dumb. It’s more like... I don’t know.” Emma paused. “Like I don’t ever want to be without her. Does that make sense?” 

“I wouldn’t call it sense,” Ruby’s eyes met hers, clear and honest across the table. “Sounds to me like you’re falling in love with her.”

Emma’s heart shot up into her throat. “I –”

“Look at you.” Ruby grinned. “It’s like you’re eighteen again. You look... You look like your parents. All dopey and moonstruck.” “

“Uh!” Emma made an incredulous noise of protest. She looked about the half-deserted diner for help. None came. “I do not!” 

“Hate to break it to you, Swan.” Ruby shrugged, sipping her coffee and setting it down with a look of worldly wisdom. “Happens to all of us in the end.”

By the time they said goodbye – Ruby had to go into the backroom, don her apron and start her shift – most of Emma’s doubts about her and their friends had disintegrated like morning mist under the sun. Fortunately – or unfortunately – the damn waitress had sparked a whole set of new ones. 

As Emma began wheeling herself home down main street, with the frosty breeze teasing strands of blonde hair across her face, a feeling she couldn’t quite name started blossoming in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed, focusing on pressing the right buttons to keep herself whirring steadily down the pavement, beneath the frost-dusted shop signs that rattled overhead. Still, winter wind stinging her cheeks, she could feel herself starting to flush with heat. Not in a bad way. Or a good way, really. 

_You look like your parents._ Ruby’s words from earlier played over and over and over in her mind, like a stuck record. They made her heart beat faster, more furiously. Like it was more determined to keep going than it used to be. _Sounds to me like you’re falling in love with her._

It was ridiculous! It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before – she’d just never let herself get so stuck on it before. Sure, she hadn’t slept that much lately. And yeah, her stomach got all jumpy and weird and her chest got all fluttery at the thought of Regina’s smile, or the sound of the voice control on her phone telling her she had a new message from her. Maybe she did want to live and live well, and maybe she would buy Regina the moon if she could. Maybe the night Regina took her hand and made all her wishes come true was the best thing that had ever, ever happened to her. And yeah, the thought of not seeing her, of her not being around anymore was just... _un_ thinkable. 

_But that doesn’t mean..._

Emma’s mouth was suddenly completely dry. Even the thought sounded hollow in her head. Fuck. Fuck. She could see her house down the street, the tree in the back garden shaking bare branches at the sky. Her heart was racing. 

_Yes it does_ , the voice in her head told her. _It does and you know it. You’ve known it for a while now_. 

Before she could even begin to freak out, she was halfway down the front garden with her dad jogging down to meet her with a grin on his face and a tool belt around his waist. Her mom, she guessed, was still at work in the town hall. Regina was probably with her. 

She was too wrapped up in her own mind – currently saying nothing but _fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_ over and over again – to even register the warmth hitting her face as her dad wheeled her inside and shut the door, flipping a screwdriver from his belt and talking about how he was finally fixing that wonky hinge her mom was always on about and whether it went okay with Ruby. He was just ambling back into the den when the thoughts swelled and rolled and it was suddenly too much – she needed to say them out loud, to make them real and maybe just get some feedback from a human being that did not have red highlights and booty shorts. 

“Dad,” Emma called, wheeling herself to a stop on the hardwood floors of the foyer. Her heart felt jumpy and tense, like a rabbit in headlights. But nicer. A nice rabbit in headlights. She cleared her throat. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.” David turned in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and scanning her face with honest eyes. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t really know...” Emma took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze for a moment and gathering the strength to say it out loud and make it real. She looked up and met his eyes. “I think I’m kind of... in love with Regina.”

Something shifted behind his green eyes. “Oh wow.”

“Yeah.” Emma swallowed, and nodded. Something was dancing in her stomach like excitement and fear all bundled up into one. “Like, really badly.”

A smile ghosted over the sheriff’s face, searching her eyes. “You sure?”

“Well I can’t sleep or eat and I mean I couldn’t before but it’s in a good way now.” Emma told him, heart racing. “And I know she’s kind of mean and emotionally reserved and all but I also think she’s the most beautiful, incredible, perfect human being in the world so yeah, I think I’m pretty far gone.” Emma nodded, stomach tightening as her confession left her mouth.

“Wow... I mean, I knew you liked her but...” He shook his head, eyes shining as they found hers. “God, Emma. That’s so wonderful, I –”

“And I appreciate it. But can you do me a favour and not tell mom?” Emma tilted her head slightly, catching his eye. “It’s just that I know what she’s like and I don’t want her to get her hopes up –”

“Of course.” Her father nodded in understanding.

Emma exhaled, relaxing as gratitude washed over her. “Thanks.”

“But honey, if you’re really serious about this you’re going to have to tell her.” David’s eyes found hers, wide and open. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “She needs to know. And whatever doubts you have, she’ll understand. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Emma nodded, brow creasing as she thought it through. She managed a genuine smile. “I’ll get there. Just once I’m more sure... That we can both do this.”

“Got it,” Her dad said, and Emma knew that he did. Slowly, slowly, a boyish grin spread over his face until he looked just like all those pictures her mom kept up of when they were kids, when they first met. “But the real question is, kiddo... When are you gonna tell _Regina_?”

_When indeed?_ Emma thought, already gathering her courage. 

-0-

It was dark outside, Henry was safely tucked in bed, and she was just about to turn the television off and head upstairs when her phone rang. 

Regina felt a furrow appear between her brows, leaning forward to pick it up off the coffee table. Anticipation washed over her when she saw the contact name. Trying not to think too much about it, she quickly swiped answer and lifted the phone to her ear.  
The voice that greeted her was breathless, excited. “Regina?”

“Emma?” Regina replied. She was about to ask what was wrong, why she was calling so late, but something stopped her. As if her body knew before she did, happiness flipped in her stomach. She held her breath, waiting. For a while, there was nothing but silence crackling down the line. She could hear the other woman breathing. 

And then suddenly, honestly, irrevocably – “I love you.” 

“What?”

“I love you.” Emma’s voice repeated. “I love you, I love you, I love you, Regina...” She heard her falter, her breath catch, heard the smile in her voice. “I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this over the phone in the middle of the night but I’m falling in love with you and you should know that. You don’t have to say it back. God, I don’t even care. I feel like – I feel like I felt before the accident when I’d be driving really fast at night and all the other crap just went away.” Her voice was thick and light all at once. “I love you. I love you, and it doesn’t even matter that I can’t walk or make a cup of tea because I feel like I’m _flying_.”

Her words lingered in the silence all around them after she stopped talking. They went straight to Regina’s bloodstream. She opened her mouth, but words deserted her. Her heart was racing in her chest, mind reeling, and before she could even think about it or celebrate or cry she was replying. Effortlessly. “I love you too.”

“You...” Emma’s voice trailed off. 

“I love you.” Regina repeated, stronger. “I do. There’s nothing...” She breathed out, feeling tears building behind her eyes the same time a grin toyed at the corners of her mouth, spreading over her face slowly and then all at once. She had to bite back a laugh. “There’s nothing else to say about it.” 

For a while, they melted into silence. 

“Hey.” Emma’s voice was soft and crackly. 

“Hey.” Regina repeated. 

“Don’t hang up. Just... I just want to hear you breathing, just for a while longer.”

“Okay.” Regina said softly, wondering when her voice had started to sound like that. 

“Okay,” Emma echoed happily. She wondered when _her_ voice had started to sound like that. 

She didn’t wonder when they’d fallen in love. 

Standing in the living room of a house that was all hers, surrounded by framed photos of Henry and bits and pieces of the life she’d made, holding the phone to her ear and hearing her girlfriend breathe, Regina realised it wasn’t something that had happened all at once.  
It had happened in fits and starts, in bits and pieces of lonely days with grey skies. It had happened in rain, in earrings and haircuts; it had happened in green eyes and apple pie, in walls and defences. It had happened in slow-earned smiles and Henry’s laughter and airy museum halls. It had happened in dancing, in laughing and spinning as music swelled all around. It had happened in quiet afternoons and movies, in reading crappy books. It had happened in honesty and Christmas lights twinkling in the snow. In hands holding and eyes searching and tears. It had happened slowly, and it had happened all at once. 

It was all of that, Regina thought, the way they had fallen in love. 

Not that they’d fallen at all, no. They’d both of them been at their lowest before. They hadn’t fallen in love. 

They’d _risen_.


	21. About Families

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I am so sorry this took so long to post! Rehearsals and essays and colds have been kicking my ass. We should be back on weekly updates from now on again. 
> 
> So, as promised, a slight Regina-centric. I’m not going to lie, this one is very plotlessly fluffy, so hopefully that makes up for the delay! 
> 
> Also, if you hadn’t guessed what’s coming, I’m just going to warn you now that Snow Queen brotp is imminent. Also forever.

And so Regina slipped into her new routine as easily as she had the first – simple and easy as falling asleep. 

On the surface, it wasn’t all that different: she woke up at the same time in the morning, in the same bed, woke Henry up for school and made breakfast. She walked him to school the same way, and walked the same way to the mayor’s house afterwards. She went round the back and said good morning to Emma, usually had a coffee or tea (hot cocoa with cinnamon for Emma) before going to find Mary Margaret either in her study at home or at the Storybrooke town hall where she’d had her first interview, all those months ago. 

The work was good, Regina had to admit. Caring for Emma had opened up her life in the best possible way, but that was hardly a professional endeavour anymore, and it was almost a relief to be surrounded by files and faxes again. Working with Mary Margaret was nothing like work had been in Portland – it was easy, and almost companionable. As it turned out, a lot more went into running a small town than she would have thought, and as it turned out, she was glad. So she worked, she spent time with Emma, she spent time with Henry. The bottle of sleeping pills on her nightstand began to gather dust. 

On the surface, her world hadn’t changed all that much. Underneath... Regina could scarcely remember the last time she’d been so content with day to day life. 

“Morning,” Regina called, pulling her jangling key from the lock and closing the porch door behind her. She unbuttoned her coat, folding it over her arm and going to peer around the door of the mayor’s study. “Where are we stationed today?” 

“Oh, here will do,” Inside, Mary Margaret was reaching half under the table, face screwed up in concentration. The little office was still a junkyard of files and novelty paperweights, photocopies and family pictures. “As long as you excuse the mess.”

“I have a nine year old son, Mrs – Mary Margaret.” Regina corrected herself quickly, shooting the other woman a look. “This is nothing.” 

“Whatever you say,” The mayor raised her eyebrows, leaning over to clear a space the opposite side of the desk for her. “Anyway, have a seat.” She frowned, as much as Mary Margaret could frown, rifling through the stack of papers on her lap. “So... It would be a massive help if you could finish those reports from yesterday?”

“On it.” Regina assured her, brow furrowing as she searched for the right file. “When do you need them by?” When she didn’t get an answer, Regina glanced up from the paperwork in front of her to find Mary Margaret watching her with a barely-supressed smile on her face. Regina met her gaze, trying her best not to be defensive and snappy. “What?”

“Nothing.” Mary Margaret replied, smile still in place. Though not biologically, the mayor had the same kind of smile as her daughter – when it appeared, it could light up the whole world. She paused, toying with a giraffe-shaped paperweight in front of her. “Nothing. You just reminded me of something.” She paused again, seeming to shake the thought off. “And you have a more intense work ethic than pretty much everybody in this town combined.”

Regina wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. “City standards.” In the end, she settled on a smile. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

“It’s a good thing,” Mary Margaret assured her. 

It was a few hours later, when they’d both fallen into a companionable quiet, broken only by the scratching of pencils on paper and the tapping of computer keys, that the mayor brought it up again, seemingly out of nowhere. “You know Emma used to help me out when she was little?” She glanced up from the desk. “Well, I say little – we didn’t properly start fostering her until she was thirteen.”

Regina’s eyebrows shot skyward as she folded another piece of paper. “Really?”

“Yeah. She’d sort my files, photocopy, take messages for me. Or tried to, at least.” The mayor shot her a look. “She was always much happier in David’s office.”

“Is that how she ended up working with him?” Regina inquired. 

“Oh yeah.” Mary Margaret nodded. “Ever since she first moved in with us she hung around the station, dropped by there after school, tried to sneak looks at all the case files.”

Regina couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on her lips at the thought. “I have no trouble believing that.” She paused, glancing back down at her paperwork without seeing it at all. And then, before she could even think about stopping herself - “Do you have pictures?” 

A slow smile quirked across Mary Margaret’s mouth conspiratorially. “I may be able to rustle up an album or two.”

Ten minutes later, and the mayor of Storybrooke was weaving around the study door, two cups of tea and a stack of thick photo albums balanced precariously in her hands. Regina stood to take the mugs from her, setting them down on the desk. “Thanks,” Mary Margaret skirted around the desk, dropping back down into her chair and sorting through the albums. She glanced up after a second, expectant smile on her face. “Come on, sit down. If there’s space –”

“It’s fine,” Regina assured her with a thin smile, dragging her own chair around the side of the desk beside her. 

She settled down in the chair beside her with a feeling of almost apprehension thumping in her chest – she and Mary Margaret may have spent time together almost every day, but that was different. That was work: beyond small talk, their conversations in the town hall never went past budgeting. She hadn’t done the whole _significant other’s parent_ thing since meeting Robin’s parents ten years ago. And after all, she wasn’t the easiest to get along with. Regina composed herself, absently brushing down her blouse and tucking a dark wave of hair behind her ear. _You’re going to be just fine._

“Right,” Mary Margaret said, taking a sip of tea and setting it back down. She swept a strand of dark hair off of her face and flipped open the first album, a thick leather bound number. “I think this is the earliest one...”

Whatever barriers she’d built up in her head dissipated the minute Regina saw the first picture, tucked carefully into the slot on the first page, neat blue lines of handwriting underneath. 

“Is this...?” Regina heard herself say, grin curling at the corners of her mouth and tugging inside her chest. She leaned forward, fingers trailing over the paper. 

Inside the photograph, a messy scrap of a thirteen year old grinned wide at the camera, holding up a huge stuffed dragon in her arms. She was wearing a parka, and a knitted bobble hat, crammed over her a tangled mess of blonde hair, and her dimpled cheeks were red with cold. Fairground lights twinkled against the grey sky behind her. David was standing by her, making a face – he looked remarkably unchanged, except for the lack of grey in his hair, less lines around his easy smile. 

Something buried deep inside Regina’s chest just _melted_.

“Yep,” Mary Margaret nodded, and when she caught Regina’s eye there was the biggest smile on her face. Regina tried to reconcile the woman in front of her with the woman that had interviewed her that first day. “We’d been seeing her for a while but it was one of our first proper day trips. And according to Emma, the first time she’d ever won anything.” She shot Regina a look. “I think we still have that godawful thing up in the attic somewhere.” 

“That’s perfectly acceptable,” Regina assured her, unable to tear her eyes away from the photo. “I still have Henry’s first disgusting stained bear in the back of my closet.”

“Sounds about right,” Mary Margaret agreed. “And this one, this was the first baseball game David took her to. God, they were mad on it. They used to come back home shouting, wearing all the gear...”

The clever comment died in Regina’s throat as she took in the next picture: the same scrappy skinny blonde kid, this time wide-eyed and amazed, bouncing in a plastic stadium chair, basket of nachos balanced in her lap. She was wearing a baseball cap and oversized jersey, green and black stripes painted on her cheeks. 

“What about this one?” Regina asked, gesturing towards a picture of Emma – a little bit older – and sitting on a cardboard box outside the mayor’s house. She was looking away from the camera, squinting into the glaring gold onset of the sun, hair and eyes lit up in the light. 

“That one David took the day she moved in,” Mary Margaret told her lightly, proudly. Regina didn’t miss the catch of emotion in her throat. “She didn’t know it was being taken.” 

Regina stared at it, heart softening, before lifting her gaze back up to the mayor. “It was brave of you.”

“What?” Mary Margaret seemed surprised, looking up at her, green eyes wide. 

“Adopting a teenager like that,” Regina clarified. “That can’t have been easy.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” Mary Margaret assured her, grin turning into a softer smile on her face. “But it was worth it. Every minute of it.” She paused, staring down at the pictures. “David and I couldn’t have kids, we always knew that. We always wanted one, though. I didn’t know if fostering would be too hard but... The minute we met Emma we just knew. It may have taken some time but Emma’s the best thing that ever happened to us.” 

“That’s beautiful,” Regina told her, honestly, casting another glance down over the carefully arranged photographs. 

Mary Margaret’s warm hand on hers made her look up suddenly. The mayor inhaled slowly, and her eyes found Regina’s with a sincere smile. Her voice was thinner than it had been before, but somehow stronger too. “Regina, I just want to tell you again just how _thankful_ we all are for you. After the accident –” She winced, blinking a few times and taking a moment to collect herself. “Well, safe to say I didn’t know if any of us would be okay again. Now everything’s working out and... I couldn’t have asked for a better person for Emma.” 

Regina nodded, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “Thank you.” 

“No, Regina, thank you.” Mary Margaret flashed her another smile, and then dropped her hand, brushing down her short hair and flipping the page of the photo album over. “Look at this one – summer heatwave. I tried to tell them not to use the hose like that but –”

Regina laughed, scanning the new page with that happy tingly feeling she’d only ever associated with Henry. As the clock on the wall ticked by, she sipped her tea, and watched Emma go through high school, graduate, go on holiday, start work at the sheriff’s station. She had no idea how much time had passed until - 

“Um,” Emma’s voice made them both jerk up from the photo album. The blonde was wheeling herself through the doorway, a look of intense confusion on her face. “What is going on here?”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret paused. “Sweetie. I was just showing Regina some of our old pictures.”

“Oh god.” Emma stared between them, eyebrows twisted into a look of intense horror. She grimaced with a slight shake of her head. “You know what, I don’t wanna know. Come on, babe. Let’s go pick up the little prince from school.”

-0-

Outside, the sun was shining and the sky was blue and crisp, despite the sharp winter chill in the air. Regina felt the wind sting her cheeks immediately as she pushed Emma out over the mayors driveway. A thin sheen of frost crusted the bushes. Beneath the wheelchair, gravel crunched and clicked. 

“So how did it go today?” Regina asked lightly, turning out onto the street and towards the school. While she’d been working, Emma had been out with Ruby, and some of her other old friends from before. They’d agreed to meet after they both finished, to pick up Henry and have dinner together.

“It went... Surprisingly okay.” Emma confessed, and Regina could hear the half smile in her voice. “Come on, come round here. I can get myself there for now.”

“Okay,” Regina dropped the wheelchair handles, stepping around to keep pace beside the chair, burying her gloved hands in her coat pockets. 

She shot a sideways look at Emma – the blonde raised her eyebrows at her, green eyes honest and intent, lazy half smile curled over her lips as Regina knew it would be. Beneath her beanie, tangled blonde hair whipped around in the cold grey air. “Seriously, Regina,” The smile softened into a genuine grin. “I had a good time. Apparently Ruby was telling the truth when she said they don’t all think I’m a ginormous asshole.” 

Regina shot her a look, smile breaking over her lips despite herself. “You knew she was.” 

“I guess,” Emma squinted in the wind. “I don’t know. It was nice today, though. Weird, but nice.” She paused. “What about you? What was that with my mom just now?”

Regina considered, sweeping windswept dark hair out of her face. The heels on her boots clicked against the pavement in time with Emma’s wheelchair. “She was telling me how you used to help her out when you were younger. I may have asked to see pictures.” 

“You are _such_ a stereotypical romcom girlfriend,” Emma told her, eyebrow quirked. “You know that, right?” 

“Shut up,” Regina muttered airily, despite the smile on her face. “I wanted to see. Anyway, we got to talking afterwards and it was actually...” She ignored the look Emma was trying to give her. “ _Nice_ , alright?”

“Stereotype.” Emma reiterated. “I can’t believe you’re friends with my mom.”

“We’re not _friends_. Maybe.” Regina shook her head. “Anyway, she loves you, Emma, and she wants you to be happy. You’re lucky.”

Emma stared up at her, brows twisting as she squinted in the wind. Regina met her gaze, brown eyes sincere, dark hair tossed about her face in the wind. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering about Regina’s mother, and what was going on there. She shook the thought off. Now wasn’t the time. Regina would open up when she was ready, and that wouldn’t happen by pushing. She knew that better than anyone. 

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the school gates, where there was already a cluster of bored parents waiting around, bundled in coats and scarves. They came to a stop at Regina’s usual spot, a little away from the others. 

“Did you tell him I was coming over tonight?” Emma asked, wheeling herself closer to the wall to shelter from the wind. 

“No.” Regina shook her head. “It’s a surprise. He’s been badgering me to see you for days.”

Emma grinned, opening her mouth to reply just as a flood of small children in school uniforms came running and laughing out of the gates, monitored by a few teachers. She craned her neck for a glimpse of familiar feathery brown hair and an X-Men backpack amongst the crowd.  
Regina caught sight of him first – he grinned when her saw her, squirming through the other children to run over, launching himself at his mother in a hug. “Hi, mom!”

“Henry,” Regina smiled, giving him a quick squeeze before drawing back. “Look who’s here.”

Emma inclined her head with a grin. “Hey, kid.”

“Emma!” Henry’s face lit up in a smile. “This is so cool. I haven’t seen you for like – a whole week! Are you gonna come home with us? Are you gonna stay for dinner?” He stared eagerly between the two women. “Can I push you?” 

“Henry!” Regina admonished, biting back a laugh. “One thing at a time.”

“Yes, yes, and sure you can, kid,” Emma grinned, squinting a little in the winter sun. “You know the drill. Just not too –”

“Fast.” Henry finished, eagerly rushing around behind her chair to reach and grab the handles in his small hands. He was almost tall enough to push comfortably. “I know.”

Regina placed a hand on the small of his back, herding him away from the crowd and down the street. “How was school today, sweetie?”

“It was okay.” Henry shrugged his skinny shoulders, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on directing the wheelchair over the pavement. 

“Okay, what does that mean?” Emma asked, mock-confused. She widened her eyes, eyebrows shooting up dramatically. “Find any dinosaur bones? Discover a continent? Defeat a bad guy?” 

Henry laughed. “Not today.”

“Ah, well.” Emma threw a look over her shoulder at him. “Can’t go on adventures everyday.”

“Sure you can,” Henry said cheerfully. “Superheroes do.”

“Superheroes also finish their education first,” Regina reminded him. 

Henry pulled a face. 

“Come on, ‘Gina. Give the kid a break.” Emma smiled sideways at her. “I think we’d all be a lot more enthusiastic if we’d gone to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

“That doesn’t exist though,” Henry pointed out pragmatically. “It’s just a story.”

“Yeah, so’s everything. We all have stories.” Emma told him. “Just because something’s a story doesn’t mean it’s not real. I mean, can you imagine it? Can you believe in it?”

“Yeah, but –”

“Then it’s real.” 

Regina smiled, watching Henry push Emma down Main Street, both of them smiling, debating stories and superheroes. It never failed to hit her somewhere between her heart and her stomach, the way the two of them got along so well. She still wasn’t sure what she’d ever done to deserve such a wonderful young man for a son, and every time he joked so happily, so openly, so naturally with Emma it hit her all over again. 

They got home quickly, Regina unlocking the front door and sending Henry to fetch the doorstop ramp she’d bought a few weeks ago. He insisted on wheeling Emma indoors too – then immediately darting upstairs to find some special comic book he wanted to show her.  
Regina smiled to herself, hanging up her coat and leading Emma into the kitchen. “You want a coffee? Tea? Hot cocoa with –”

“Cinnamon.” Emma finished, wheeling herself to a stop in front of the cabinets and meeting Regina’s eyes with a smile. 

“Naturally.” Regina smiled begrudgingly, going to put on the kettle. “I’ll make Henry one too. We’ve got lasagne for dinner later, by the way.”

“As in your super special red pepper lasagne that makes me want to propose to you on the spot?”

Regina smiled to herself she retrieved the cinnamon from the cupboard. “That would be the one.” 

Emma grinned. “You know what you’re doing.” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Mom!” Henry skidded to a stop in the kitchen doorway in his stripy socks, breathless grin on his face. “Mom, can I go show Emma my collectable stuff?” He didn’t wait for an answer before charging off out the door. “Come on, Emma!”

Emma shot Regina her best puppy dog look. “Kid has limited edition Origins.” 

“Oh, go on.” Regina told her. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

For the second time that day, Regina found herself unstuck from the measure of time – one minute she was crammed onto the sofa with Henry and Emma, sipping hot cocoa and cinnamon and listening to them talk, feeling immeasurably content, the next she was accepting compliments on her cooking (and trying to explain to Henry why he could _not_ have a glass of the wine she and Emma were drinking) and before she knew it, the sky outside the curtains had darkened and filled with a blizzard of stars. 

She didn’t realise how late it was until Emma was on the phone to her mom in the foyer, and Henry, hanging off her arm on the sofa, suddenly piped up, “Can Emma stay over? Like a sleepover?”

“What?” Regina glanced down at her watch. “No.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“Because.” Regina said. “It is a school night, and it’s past your bedtime.”

Henry huffed, nose wrinkling unhappily. “But mom...”

“Tell you what.” Regina caught his eye, negotiating calmly. “If you promise to go straight to sleep afterward, you can stay up an extra half an hour with Emma. Okay?”

“Okay.” Henry‘s whole face lit up, instantly jumping onto a ne idea. “Can Emma read me my story tonight?”

Regina was just opening her mouth to answer when a voice from behind them did it for her.

“Sure she can.” Emma called from the doorway, easy smile on her face as she wheeled herself through into the room. Warm light from the antique lamp in the corner washed over her skin and curling hair. 

Regina’s heart softened with gratitude, watching as Henry beamed, practically bouncing to his feet. “This is awesome!” His whole face was lit up in a grin, eyes wide and bright. “I’m gonna go get my storybook! Wait right here!” 

With that, he charged from the room in a blur of blue pyjamas, leaving Regina to gape at the doorway as his footsteps thumped upstairs. She stared at Emma, incredulous. “Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah,” Emma nodded, grinning. “I do one kick ass bedtime –”

Henry barged back in, breathless and grinning, the gorgeous gilt copy of _Once Upon a Time_ that had been Emma’s Christmas present to him clutched tight against his skinny chest. With a grin, he thrust the book at his mother and herded her towards the sofa, hopping up after her. Regina supressed a laugh, flipping open the book and positioning it so that Emma could see. 

She scanned the contents page, where all the stories were listed neatly, beside Emma’s inscription. “What story are we going for tonight?”

“Read me the one about the saviour and the queen!” Henry decided instantly, turning to Emma. “That one’s the best.”

“Right,” Regina bit back a smile. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the company, but she was feeling increasingly... She didn’t know. She flipped through page after page, filled with writing and beautiful illustrations until she found Henry’s favourite story, and shifted closer to Emma so she could see, tucking her legs up underneath her on the couch.

“Okay everyone, settle down because I’m about to hit you with the best bedtime story you’ve ever heard.” Emma declared. Regina wrapped an arm around Henry as he snuggled closer into her side, smelling like home. Emma caught her eye, with a soft smile, setting off something warm and heartfelt inside her. “ _Once upon a time, in a small kingdom called the Enchanted Forest, there lived a young queen who’s name was known across the land. The queen had everything she could ever want, but she was lonely..._ ” 

Regina rested her head gently on Emma’s shoulder, eyes tracking the words on the page as the blonde read, ready to turn the page when she needed. It may have been winter outside, but snuggled between Emma and Henry, the three of them breathing in time, with Emma’s soft steady voice filling the room, she couldn’t fathom ever feeling warmer. 

“ _... The saviour woke the queen with the magic of true love's kiss, and finally, with the kingdom at peace again, they lived happily ever after._ ”

“I love that story,” Henry yawned. “Even if the last bit’s gross.” 

Emma caught Regina’s eye with the barest hint of a smile. “It’s not so bad.”

After, when they’d put Henry to bed, before Emma left, Regina found herself coming downstairs shaking her head, incredulous. 

“What?” Emma asked, watching as she dropped back down onto the sofa. 

“It’s just...” Regina shifted awkwardly against the sofa, searching for the right words. She exhaled slowly. “I’m still not used to it. Evenings like this. Some days it seems almost too good to be true.”

“Right.” Emma nodded, green eyes seeking brown. “You and Henry... You used to have problems?”

“I wouldn’t call them _problems_. It wasn’t problematic; it wasn’t anything.” Regina felt a slight frown cross her face and took a breath, trying to piece it together in her mind. “Henry and I were close when he was younger, but around the same time my marriage started to fall apart he became... Distant. He’d stay in his room, he had problems at school, he wouldn’t talk to me or Robin. No matter how hard I tried. I think maybe on some level he knew neither of his parents were really happy.” Suddenly, she turned to Emma, eyes wide. “That has to effect a child, surely?”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Which is how you know you did the right thing, moving, bringing him here.” An encouraging smile appeared on the blonde’s lips. “Look at him. You can’t honestly say that’s a kid with problems anymore.”

Regina nodded once, twice. “You’re right.”

“I am. You know that.”

“I do, but I can’t help doubting myself sometimes.” Regina confessed. Her voice seemed small in her own ears. “It’s like... I’ve finally got my little boy back. I don’t want him to go away again. I don’t want to do anything wrong, I...”

“Regina Mills.” Emma’s eyes found hers, steadying, encouraging, honest. “You are doing _everything right._ ”

Regain released a breath she’d been holding for a long time, the sound of it shaky and uncertain in her head. The fact Emma was so convinced she was doing well made her chest fill with hope and happiness – it was just disconcerting saying all this out loud. She’d never said any of it to anyone before. Not even Robin. Shoulders stretching into a slight shrug, Regina’s gaze fell down to where the gilt storybook lay on the floor at her feet. “I guess.”

“Get in here,” Emma softened, motioning with her head. 

Regina didn’t need to be told twice; she eased herself off of the couch and slowly down into Emma’s lap in one fluid motion, gently folding the blonde into a hug that sent a fresh flood of warmth spilling through her chest. Her hair smelled like winter and apple shampoo. A soft smile appeared on Emma’s lips. 

“You’re a great mom. Henry _adores_ you. You’re gonna be fine.” Emma assured her carefully, green eyes seeking brown as Regina straightened to meet her eyes with a grateful smile. She just watched her for a moment, dark hair tucked behind her ear, elegant hands smoothing down Emma’s sweater. Without thinking, Emma grinned. “It’s kind of sexy, actually.”

Regina’s hands paused their ministrations, expertly shaped eyebrows shooting skyward. “You think me being a mother is _sexy_?”

“Um.” Emma paused. 

“That’s weird.” Regina shot her a look of mock-concern. “You know that’s weird, don’t you?”

“I’m a textbook foster kid!” Emma replied defensively. That light, sparkly feeling was tingling through her chest again; the one that made her feel eighteen and in love for the first time again. Her grin was something livewire. “Excuse me for idealising stable family relationships.”

“And that’s what we are,” Regina said softly. It wasn’t a question. Her eyes met Emma’s, wide and dark and honest, barely an inch away.

“Hate to break it to you, babe,” Emma’s smile was slow and heavy, like melting chocolate. “Looks like it.” 

Regina couldn’t help the grin that broke out over her face. Leaning forward, she carefully took Emma’s face in her hands and kissed her, soft and warm and sweet. The feeling of Emma’s lips moving against hers still awoke a buzzing in her veins, but there was something else now too – a familiarity, a calming sensation. Like safety, and home. 

She broke the kiss softly, biting back a smile as Emma nudged her nose with her own. She could feel the weight of those green eyes on her face, trailing her. “I love you,” Regina said softly. It was the first time she’d said it to Emma’s face, not over the phone. 

“Good.” A smile stretched over the blonde’s face. “I love you too.” 

Regina smiled again as Emma leaned forward to capture her lips in another kiss, winding her arms around Emma’s neck. After a few moments, she nestled back against her, and she thought about Portland: about Robin, and the distance that seemed to fill every inch of the apartment there. And she thought about the warmth filling her home here. And she thought about Mary Margaret today, that feeling she’d gotten when they’d laughed at the old pictures together, and of David, and Kathryn. She thought about her son sleeping soundly upstairs, and Emma, wrapped up in her arms, and she couldn’t quite believe it. 

Suddenly, irrevocably, her family was growing again.


	22. Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this didn’t get posted earlier! Looks like updates are going to be one a week now, but I can’t say there’ll be a set day like there was before college. 
> 
> But, we’re finally at least on the way to plot again. This one may be fillery, but I promise the next couple of chapters will be great. I have BIG plans. 
> 
> As always, big thanks to everybody reading, commenting, supporting. I love you all, and I swear someday I may actually have the time to reply to you all!

As January turned colder and more bleak around her, Regina, inevitably, found talk turning to what was usually one of her most dreaded events of the year: her birthday. 

Every year, like clockwork, January would rage on with snow and clouds and as February drew nearer, she would no doubt be subjected to an ungodly amount of calls and visits from her mother, inevitably trying to stage some ridiculous elegant cocktail party – and inevitably giving her the cold shoulder when Regina refused. Not to mention the awkward work colleagues and reliably terrible gift from Robin that she’d always pretend was perfect to spare his feelings. 

That was what her birthday meant before. Now? She wasn’t quite sure. 

She said as much to Kathryn when she asked. They were out for a quick coffee, bundled in a back booth at Granny’s beside the absurd old jukebox with a steaming flat white clasped between her cold hands. “It’s not a big deal.” Regina insisted, trying to avoid the conversation. “Honestly. I just want to get it over with.”

“Regina, come on,” Kathryn shot her a look across the polished table. “It’s your first birthday in Storybrooke.” She paused, blue eyes finding Regina’s pointedly. “It’s your first birthday with _Emma_.” 

Regina bit back an incredulous smile, looking down into her coffee cup. “Really, Kat.” She looked up, flipping a dark wave of hair behind her shoulder. “I don’t want to make a fuss.”

“Celebrating your birthday isn’t making a fuss, Regina.” Kathryn told her. Behind the counter, Ruby was making coffee, machine whirring loudly over the low chatter of conversation. “Maybe a small get together would be nice? Just Emma and Henry and Frederick and me. What do you say?”

“No.” Regina repeated firmly, with a scalding sip of flat white. “I’m not making it an issue.”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t you getting all weird and dysmorphic about age, is it? Because I swear to god if _you_ start then there’s definitely no hope for –”

“Kathryn.” Regina’s eyes found hers. 

“Okay, fine. Fine. I’ll drop it.” Kathryn held up her hands as a peace sign before taking another sip of coffee. “By the way, speaking of Frederick... The wedding’s getting closer.” Her friend paused, hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And I realised I haven’t actually asked you to be a bridesmaid yet.” 

“Really?” Regina couldn’t help the incredulous smile that appeared on her face, or the sudden rush of warmth and gratitude that spilled through her chest. She knew it was silly, but nobody had ever asked her before. She’d never really had friends back in Portland. 

“Absolutely.” Kathryn told her earnestly, hands wrapping tight around her coffee cup. “And feel free to bring Henry. And Emma. Although we’ll send out actual invitations closer to the time with all the details. I just wanted to check that you can bridesmaid beforehand.” 

“I’d be happy to.” Regina assured her. 

It wasn’t until after Ruby had cleared away their empty cups, and Regina was buttoning her coat up that the topic of her birthday came up again. She was just untucking the ends of her hair from her black wool scarf when Kathryn’s bright blue eyes just lit up. 

“What about your cabin?” The blonde asked, halfway through tugging on a glove. “The one out by Pinewood?” 

Regina frowned. “What about it?”

“Why don’t you go there? The bank holiday weekend’s a few days before your birthday. Fred and I would be happy to have Henry if Robin can’t.” Kathryn bit back a smile. “You could take _Emma_. It would be good for you. For both of you.” 

_It would_ , Regina thought, something inside of her lifting up at the idea. It wasn’t technically her cabin: it had been in her father’s family for years as a fishing lodge, but her mother had commandeered it for family holiday’s when she was a child. It was a sort of tradition for a few years: every winter before Christmas they’d pack up and spent a weekend there, reading in front of the fireplace, walking around the lake. Well, Regina and her father. She was sure her mother only went so she could brag about ‘our lake house’ at the country club.

“That does sound... Tempting.” Regina admitted. She hadn’t been for years: she couldn’t remember the last time. And she was sure she still had her key somewhere...

“Come on, Regina. Do something for yourself for once.” A wide smile spread over Kathryn’s face. “In fact, that’s my first order for you as a bridesmaid.” 

“Well,” Regina allowed, hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I can hardly say no to that, can I?”

-0-

Emma couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face when Regina’s text came through, or the fluttery feeling in her stomach – part of her was cringing at what a adolescent mess she was becoming, but the other part didn’t care. Her mom didn’t need Regina’s help today, and she’d spend Saturday tomorrow with Henry, so she guessed she wouldn’t see her again for a couple of days. The text said otherwise. Hilariously read in her phone’s robotic voice command, Regina had asked if she could stop by, bearing gifts of Granny’s coffee. 

Sure, it might only be a few minutes between picking Henry up from school and whatever else she had to do, but it was nice. She might not exactly have the most thriving social life, but they were both getting busier. 

Plus, Emma was already up at the main house. She’d been helping her dad with his invoicing all morning, something she used to do before she took on a more set position at the station. They’d been joking around all morning, but fell into a happy companionable quiet after lunch, knuckling down and getting things done. It was weirdly enjoyable: it made her appreciate just how much she’d missed him this past year, and it made her feel less useless than usual. 

The sound of keys jangling and the front door opening put a smile on Emma’s face, and she wheeled herself back away from the desk. “We’re in here!” 

“Regina,” Emma heard her mother’s surprised voice greet out in the foyer. She sounded happy, though, Emma thought. That was still a weird word to apply to her – to any of them. “You didn’t have to come by today.”

“No, but...”

“Dad, can you –” Emma motioned with her head, and he jumped up to take the handles of her chair, manoeuvring her out of his office and into the hallway, where Regina was standing small talking with her mom (she was such a stereotype), a steaming Styrofoam cup held in one manicured hand. 

She turned when she heard the wheelchair whirring over the hardwood floors, brief smile lighting up her face. “Emma,” 

“Hey,” Emma grinned like an idiot. “You okay?” 

“Yes,” Regina paused a moment, reminding Emma of all those times a few months ago when she was her nothing but an overly professional carer, gathering her thoughts before discussing some medication or physio schedule with Dr Whale. She cleared her throat. “I actually have something I’d like to talk to you about,” Regina told her, before those warm brown eyes flickered up to David, and then back to Mary Margaret. “All of you.” 

“Oh?” Mary Margaret’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, face still schooled into a friendly smile. 

“Oh?” Emma echoed, frowning slightly. _The hell kind of talk involves my_ parents _?_

“Okay,” David glanced between them all. “You wanna come sit down for a second?”

A grateful smile flashed for a second across Regina’s face as she nodded. “Yes, that would be nice.”

Emma wheeled herself after her parent and her girlfriend, feeling her brow crease in confusion. Regina’s heels where clacking loudly against the hardwood floor of the foyer – her mom was either dying inside or they were better friends than she thought. She followed them into the den, where her parents immediately claimed their side of the couch, and Regina drew up a chair around the coffee table in front of them, sitting down elegantly and unwinding her scarf. A few strands of dark hair caught on the wool. 

“So,” Regina began, clearing her throat. “My birthday is coming up and I wasn’t going to do anything...” Her dark eyes found Emma’s, dancing with something that made her insides feel like melting chocolate. “But my family owns a cabin out in New Hampshire, and with the long weekend coming up I was wondering, Emma, if you’d maybe want to come with me?”

The brunette settled back in her chair, posture stiff as always, while her proposition settled over them. Emma watched her fingers carefully smooth down the scarf folded in her lap, the tightness at the corners of her lips, and for the thousandth time felt a flood of warmth. 

“Regina,” Her mother’s voice jerked Emma from her daze. She glanced over at her: Mary Margaret was perched on the edge of the couch, mouth open. When she spoke, her voice was even and diplomatic, despite the unmistakable shine of emotion in her eyes. “That is a lovely idea but Emma’s not been away since the accident. You know better than anyone the sheer level of medical attention, fixtures and features she needs just to –”

“You’re right.” Regina didn’t miss a beat. Her dark eyes were wide and determined, darting between the three of them. “I know _better than anyone_.” A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, made up a shade shy of red. 

Emma looked to her dad. David was looking at Regina with mounting understanding, mouth slightly open. She watched him nod once, twice. “I see where you’re going with this.” 

“Everything’s mostly on one level anyway.” Regina explained. “If we took the minivan for the weekend we could bring the ramps. I’m trained as her carer, I know how to set up and deal with all the equipment, I know all the medication, I know what to do in case of an emergency.” Determined smile fixed in place, the brunette breathed in and looked between the three of them. “There’s no one better prepared for a weekend away with her.”

“You make a pretty airtight case.” David allowed, green eyes dancing. He glanced between his wife and his daughter. “Can’t argue with that.”

“No,” Mary Margaret agreed, wide eyes darting between Emma and Regina. After a moment, a thin but genuine smile appeared on her lips. “You can’t.” 

-0-

The day of their departure dawned crisp and bright, and for the first time, saying goodbye (temporarily) to her son didn’t feel like a defeat.  
The last few days had flown by in a whirlwind of packing and planning – Regina had been completely in her element – and it seemed that by the time the morning came she’d already used up all the excess energy that usually went on worrying. Instead, Regina woke before the alarm with a steadiness to her thoughts and an unfamiliar tingle in her chest that she thought might be excitement. 

Breakfast, coffee, getting Henry showered and presentable, getting herself showered and presentable, double checking times on the phone with Robin, going over her list, laying bags outside the porch – it all felt good, and cathartic, and right. 

By the time Henry’s cab was predicted, Regina herded him outside without panicking. He’d be leaving first, staying with Robin until Monday – the plan was to see him off before Emma and her parents brought the minivan around for them to set off. The drive down to Pinewood from Storybrooke she’d estimated about four hours, including stops. 

“Right,” Regina grabbed Henry’s scarf off the hook in the foyer as she herded him out the front door, hands lingering on the back off his coat. “The cab should be here soon. You might have time to see Emma before you go but I’m not sure –”

Outside, she was met with a gust of cold crisp air, sudden breeze winding through her hair and shaking the frost off the neat green hedges. She shivered. Above, a sharp wind chased a few clouds across the wide blue sky. Bright winter sunlight poured down, shining off the buttons on Henry’s coat and the zip on his backpack. Regina turned to lock up quickly, keys jangling. 

“It’s okay.” Henry shrugged his skinny shoulders, hopping down off the stepped porch. “I’m kind of looking forward to going anyway. And I’ll see you both on your actual birthday.” He flashed a toothy grin.

“Yes,” She agreed. “And you can call me if you need anything.” She frowned, shiver running down her spine as the wind wound through her hair. “Here,” Regina’s brow creased with focus as she leaned down to wind the red-and-grey striped scarf around her sons neck. She ignored his attempts to bat her off, deft fingers securing the wool and tucking it into his coat. “And you’re sure you’ve got everything you need? Your homework –”

“Is in the binder you bought me.” Henry reminded her, for the thousandth time. Wide hazel eyes tracked hers, shining with the reflection of winter sunlight. His light voice was all mature and adult. “Where you put it.” 

“Okay,” Regina managed a smile, still fiddling with the end of his scarf. “And you can always ask your father if you need help.” God knows he needs the practise. 

“Mom,” Henry gave her a look. “I’ve done this before.”

“I know,” Regina allowed. She stepped back, gaze wandering over him for a moment, making sure he had everything he needed, making sure he was warm enough. Before she could get too caught up and start acting silly again, she leaned down to pull him into a tight hug against her chest, arms tight. He didn’t protest – she felt his skinny arms squeeze her back, and released the breath she’d been holding. He smelled warm, like Henry and home. 

Not wanting to embarrass him, Regina pulled back, hands still resting on his shoulders, instinctively straightening his coat and brushing his hair down. “You have fun, okay?”

“I will,” Henry flashed a toothy grin. “And you have fun too.” 

She felt a smile curl at her mouth, raising her eyebrows as she repeated his words back at him. “ _I will_.” 

A sudden beep from the side of the road made her jump and turn to stare, heart tightening at the thought of the cab. Instead, Regina saw only the Nolan’s minivan pulling up along the kerb outside her house, David grinning through the drivers seat window. 

“Emma!” Henry cried happily, turning to look up at his mother. “I get to see Emma before I go!” 

“Looks like you do,” Regina agreed, unable to help the grin on her face, nor the rush of warmth inside her chest as Mary Margaret climbed down from the passenger seat, pastel pea coat flapping in the wind. She hurried over to greet Regina with a smile, and to go over some of the medical things for the thousandth time, as if they hadn’t been going over them all week. David hopped down from the drivers side, calling a quick hello before jogging around to the back of the van, ramp tucked under his arm. 

Inside the van, the grin that had been on her face all morning – all week, really. Ever since Regina had asked so earnestly whether or not it would be okay for them to have a weekend away together, as if everything was totally and completely normal, as if they were just two everyday people in love – was reaching new heights. There was a tingle in her stomach and her chest like butterflies or something stupid - she just couldn’t quite believe it.

“Alright there, kiddo?” David asked, opening up the back of the van. Emma grinned over her shoulder at him, hearing the ramp click in place. 

Her eyes tracked him as he knelt to unfasten the wheelchair’s safety fixtures with practised ease. “Never better.” Emma told him, and for once she wasn’t lying, or exaggerating.

Her dad matched her smile before stepping behind her to swing the chair around and push her down out onto the pavement. Cold wind hit her squarely in the face, blowing through her blonde hair and making her feel alive. The chair rumbled over the gravel drive and clicked over the paving stones towards Regina’s front garden, where the brunette stood talking with her mom. Henry was scuffing at the frosty grass with the toe of a Converse, but he looked up when he saw her and his face broke into the biggest grin. 

“Morning,” Emma called. 

“Good morning,” Regina turned, arms folded over her stomach, smile on her face. Pink lipstick today, and less eyeliner than usual. 

“You look very cute,” Emma observed, trying to swallow the smile that appeared on her face at the sight of her perennially flawless girlfriend in comfy yoga pants and a turtleneck, just the slightest heel on her black winter boots. 

“Well, you know,” Regina met her smile sheepishly. “Turns out Louboutins and pantsuits aren’t exactly practical for long drives and forests.” 

“Yeah. You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a lakeside cabin kind of girl.” Emma told her. The brunette cocked a perfect eyebrow, dark eyes sparkling. “Always thought you were more of a five-star spa break lady.” 

“Oh, you thought right,” Regina informed her airily, flashing a white smile. “But we both know I’m not averse to playing two sides.” 

Emma snorted. “Lucky for me.” 

“Lucky for you,” Regina agreed, smiling again before leaning over with a hand on one of the wheelchair armrests to give her quick kiss on the cheek.

“Ugh.” The two jerked apart at the high-pitched protest – Henry was balanced on the curb, wind winding through his hair and stripy scarf, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Gross.” 

“Hey,” Emma shot him a look. “The affection your mom and I have for each other is not gross. We are not gross.”

“Yeah you are.” Henry explained matter-of-factly. “You’re like the saviour and the queen in my story. They’re gross too.” 

“ _Enough_ about us.” Regina announced, stepping forward over the paving stones towards Henry. “What’s really gross is not texting your mother your whereabouts. Remember?” 

“ _Mom_ –” Henry protested, rolling his eyes theatrically. Emma bit back a grin. 

They were interrupted by the sudden sharp beep of a car’s horn – Regina’s heart tightened in her chest, squinting in the sharp wind at where the pre-ordered cab was idling at the side of the street. 

“Right.” Regina breathed in, steeling herself. Something in Emma’s chest melted when she leaned down to meet her sons’ eyes, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear and placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of his coat. “You know what you’re doing, okay? Text me as soon as you get there.” 

“I know,” Henry nodded, little voice all adult and serious. After a second, he jumped to meet his mom in a quick, tight hug. Regina’s head was tucked over his shoulder, wind ruffling her hair. 

When she released him, Henry grinned, breathless and windswept. His bright eyes found Emma’s for a second before he lunged at her, leaning half over the chair to throw his skinny arms around her neck like a vice. She could feel him gripping her tight, despite the constricting coat and bulging backpack Regina had bundled him in. Warmth spilled through her chest like an ache. Emma turned her face to the side, head resting against his for a moment - feathery brown hair tickled her cheek. He smelled like strawberries and Regina’s shampoo. 

When he jumped back, he was grinning. “Bye, Emma!”

Emma’s eyes trailed from this wonderful kid’s happy face and up to his wonderful mother’s. Regina was staring at them, eyes wide and soft, mouth open. The corner of Emma’s mouth twitched up into a reassuring smile, which the brunette eventually matched. 

“Bye, Henry,” Emma called, as Regina turned to walk him to the cab. She glanced back at both her parents, standing at talking beside one of the Mills’ hedges, both of whom turned to wave and call goodbyes to Henry. Emma watched Regina seeing him into the car, stalking over to give a few sharp words to the driver. It made her smile, from the inside out. The brunette stood on the kerb for a moment, arms wrapped around herself, watching the cab turn and drive off away from them. 

While David hefted one of Regina’s bags into the minivan – already packed up with Emma’s bags, meds, and spare chair – Regina turned back down the path of the front garden to take the handles and push Emma back. 

She leaned down as the chair whirred and rattled back over to the minivan, mouth close to Emma’s ear to ask, “How are you feeling?” Her voice was soft and slightly altered from the one she used for Henry – but it was not quite the voice she used for the rest of the word either. Emma’s heart was dancing. 

“Fucking brilliant.”

“Language,” Regina chided, and Emma could hear the smile in her voice. 

“You all ready then?” David prompted, as they came to a stop on the pavement beside the van. He glanced between them, arm wrapping around Mary Margaret and pulling her close. The mayor smiled, exhaling slowly. 

Emma glanced up at Regina, still standing with her hands resting on the handles of the chair. Brown eyes met hers with a barely restrained smile. “We’re ready.” 

“Well,” David began. “We’ll see you...”

“When you get back.” Mary Margaret finished, with a smile that looked a touch forced. “You call us if anything happens – you know what, call us anyway.” She sighed, the smile turning warm and genuine on her lips. “I know, I know. It’ my job to worry.” 

“I understand,” Regina assured her.

“Anyway.” Mary Margaret shook her head, leaning her head absently against her husband. “We love you, and we’ll see you.”

“Have fun,” David told them, catching Emma’s eye with an easy grin. “Sheriff’s orders.”

“Got it.” Emma nodded. 

There was a quick hugging session, which made Emma feel kind of warm inside despite the tugging wind and the chair under her, and then next thing she knew Regina was kneeling in the back of minivan with her to methodically fasten the safety attachments onto the chair, before climbing around into the drivers seat herself. 

Before they drove off, the brunette twisted her neck in the seat to glance back at her, brown eyes wide and earnest, barest hint of a smile on her lips. “You okay?” 

“Better than okay.” Emma smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” Regina repeated, and Emma could see her smile in the reflection of the windshield as the small houses and bare branches of Storybrooke began to speed by.


	23. Snow Drifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite possibly the longest chapter yet, and I can’t say I didn’t get a tad carried away, but I’m not going to lie, this was one of my favourite chapters to write and about the ending, well... I’ve have to keep you on your toes, don’t I? 
> 
> Big love to everyone reading.

They were well into the fourth hour of the drive when the snow began to fall. 

The neat dollhouse suburbs of New Hampshire had recently given way to empty rolling countryside, pale green and crusted with frost that shone under the winter sun – Regina remembered some of the winding country roads from the long drives of her childhood, remembered drawing on the fogged up windows and listening to Mother complain. She could see herself reflected in the windscreen now, and Emma, fallen into a peaceful quiet in the back. A faint smile appeared on her lips. 

After a mile or so of silver-tinged fields, the trees – slender birches wrapped in silver, evergreens decked in red berries and frost, redwood and pine – grew denser, rising up either side of the empty road. The woods pressed close, brown and green pine needles scattered over the edges of the black tarmac. For once, she didn’t care about them piling against the wipers at the windshield. 

The minivan was a surprisingly smooth drive – and driving long distances like this always made her feel calm and peaceful. They seemed to do the same for Emma too, Regina reflected, gloved hands on the driving wheel. For the first half of the journey, the blonde had been cracking jokes and goading her into the most absurd car games, and the warmth and easy banter that still surprised Regina filled the van beautifully, but somewhere over the state line they’d both fallen quiet. Whether it was the scenery or the company or both she couldn’t say, but Regina knew she hadn’t felt so restful in a long time: perhaps ever. Henry had called hours ago to say he was with Robin, and once again wish them a nice weekend. 

Once the snow started – drifting and swirling down on the breeze in fat feather-gentle flakes, catching on the trees and melting on the tarmac – it completed the picture _perfectly_. 

“Hey,” Emma said softly from her place in the back, and Regina didn’t have to look around to know she was smiling. “Snow.” 

“Snow,” Regina agreed, exhaling slowly. It hadn’t snowed in Storybrooke since the day they went to the Christmas market.

They rounded another bend in the road, dead pine needles and already-melting snowflakes drifting down against the windows as the trees swayed overhead, bare branches jostling with green. At the side of the road, a familiar wooden sign directed them to Pinewood Lake. A rush of warmth shot through her stomach despite herself – how long had it been since she’d seen that sign? 

“Not long now,” She told Emma, smile playing over her lips. 

“Cool,” Emma’s voice was soft and happy, unguarded and unguarding. Completely unlike anything she would have sounded like six months ago. It still made Regina’s chest tighten and flood with gratitude. “But I mean, I think I could stay out here forever. Just driving, with the trees and the snow and everything.” She made a small sound just shy of a laugh. “It’s like a Christmas card.” 

“It’s beautiful,” Regina agreed. “I think it was one of my favourite places in the world when I was little.” 

“Yeah?” Emma smiled softly; Regina could see her reflection in the windscreen, looking out the window. “That’s not hard to believe.” 

Regina followed the gentle curve of the road, remembering. “I mean, I grew up in the suburbs outside Boston. Everything always seemed so _fake_ , so constricted... Out here you could just get away from it all.”

“Mmm,” Emma agreed, soft green eyes finding hers in the windscreen reflection. “I think I’m getting that already. It’s like there’s nothing but world.”

“I’m glad you came,” Regina told her. Her voice sounded thin and oddly small in her ears. She swallowed, breathed in and shook back a few stray strands of dark hair from her face, forcing her voice to come out stronger. “Just wait until you see the house.” 

“That good?” 

“That good.” Regina confirmed firmly, hands tightening on the wheel. 

From then on it took less than half an hour for the road to grow narrower, turn from tarmac to crushed grey gravel. Regina’s shoulders relaxed without realising at the sight of the roadside signpost announcing the change over to private land. Driving the minivan down the bumpier route, she had to bite back a smile. Eventually, as the shining grey expanse of the lake became visible through the thick-pressed tree trunks, the road turned into the drive and she parked carefully in the Mills spot, with a feeling of home coming over her. 

“Oh my god,” Emma’s voice from behind her sounded equally surprised and happy. “Is that it?”

Regina smiled down into her lap for a second before killing the engine with a jangle of keys and twisting around in the drivers seat to flash her a small smile and a nod. “That’s it.” She couldn’t help but smirk. “Impressed?”

Emma raised her eyebrows, green eyes wide. A hint of a smile ghosted over the corners of her open mouth. “Uh, yeah.” Her eyes darted past Regina to the Mills family cabin and back. “Come on. Let’s get out of this thing.” 

Regina pocketed her keys and shut her road maps back in the glove box, before opening the door and stepping out into the bracing cold. Wind chased a few loose strands of hair across her face, chafed against her cheeks. The air smelled of pine and dirt and smoke and salt, like she remembered. She smiled to herself as she opened the back doors of the minivan, climbing in to click the ramp into place before kneeling beside Emma and unfastening her wheelchair’s safety attachments. 

“You know,” Emma began, as Regina wheeled her over the ramp and out into the cold. “Before, I would totally done the chivalrous thing and offered to carry all the bags for you.”

Regina almost laughed. “There are ways,” She said, retrieving the first of her bags and hooking it over the wheelchair handles. 

Once she’d hefted the other bag over her shoulder, and set the last in Emma’s lap, Regina locked up and stepped back to take the chair handles, pushing Emma down the gravel path towards the house. Under the wheels of her chair, a mulch of fallen leaves and twigs crunched and cracked. At the end of the path, the cabin stood stoic as it had since she was a baby – low and long, the building was made of dark wood and grey stone, with generous windows and a stubby chimney. 

“Seriously, Regina, this is gorgeous,” Emma observed, head turning to stare from the house to the trees swaying overhead to the silver shimmer of the lake in the distance. The tip of her pale nose and ears were red from the cold. “It looks like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Yes,” Regina agreed, leaning down close to the blonde’s ear as she wheeled her down towards the door. She fumbled with her keys for a second before finding the right one – it had been so long since she’d last used it – but it only took her a moment to work it in the lock and turn the brass doorknob into the cabin. 

Inside, everything was exactly as she remembered – wood floors, low ceilings, gallery of framed photos hanging on the walls. A long contented sigh escaped her lips. She wheeled Emma through the little hallway and into the living room, biting back a smile at the audible gasp that came from the blonde. 

“You like it, then?” Regina prompted. 

“Like it?” Emma gaped, staring. She wasn’t quite sure where to look first. The whole thing was like a postcard, or something out of a movie. The open fireplace took up most of one wall, set deep in the stone panelling, pictures and ornaments lining the thick mantelpiece. Throw pillows seemed to be the driving force of the decoration. 

But what drew her eye and made her feel slightly like all this might be some elaborate dream sequence was the big deep-set window. Looking out across the wide shining lake and the surrounding woods, occasionally broken up with another cabin, half hidden in the trees. The snow was slowing to a stop. She turned to Regina, genuine smile washing over her. “It’s beautiful.” 

“It is.” Regina nodded. “I’d almost forgotten – why don’t you make yourself at home and I’ll take the bags through to the bedroom.” 

Emma nodded, wheeling herself over to the fireplace as Regina’s heels clicked out of the room, staring at the fancy iron grate and the red bricks. If anything was becoming clear from all this it was that she’d clearly underestimated Regina’s background. She’d assumed her family was loaded from the first time she’d laid eyes on her but... 

The next thing that caught her eye made everything else go away. She couldn’t help it: a huge smile lit her up, from inside out. Standing on the heavy oak mantelpiece was a framed picture of a tiny little girl with long dark hair and a huge smile, bundled in a fancy pink coat with her arms around the neck of a horse. She almost didn’t hear Regina coming back in.

“Oh my god,” Emma grinned, turning to stare incredulously up over at the brunette. “Is this you?”

Regina’s head shot up, dark eyes wide and startled. “ _Don’t_ look at that!”

“This is _so_ cute!” Emma enthused, shaking her head. Laughter and warmth bubbled up in her chest, threatening to overflow. “Look at your little ribbon...”

“Stop that!” Regina hurried to her side, struggling to suppress a laugh despite her frustration. She sighed, brow creasing as her gaze came to rest upon the photo. Hopelessly, one hand came up to her head. “God, I didn’t know my father still kept that here –”

“And this one!” Emma’s mouth dropped, brow creased earnestly as she stared at a photo further along the mantelpiece, held in a fancy gilt frame – this one showed the same tiny little Regina, a few years older maybe, pink-cheeked and grinning under one of the big old oak trees out by the lake. She was wearing flowery welly boots, and a matching coat. “Oh my god, look at this one. This is so cute.”

“No.” Regina stated. “ _No._ ”

“Babe,” Emma met her eyes with a slow lazy grin. “I love you.” 

Regina huffed, meeting her eyes with a reluctant smile. The blonde’s green eyes were wide and soft, lazy smile warm as melting chocolate. It made something heavy twist very deep down in Regina’s stomach. She swallowed, feeling the smile curving over her own lips and nodded. “I love you too.” She paused, pulling her lip absently between her teeth. “So what do you say I lay a fire and we get this trip started off properly?”

-0-

Beyond the window, a gentle snow had begun to fall again as evening drew in and the sky above the reaching branches and shining water faded and stars began to show. Under the mantelpiece, a small fire flickered, flames dancing and crackled, filling the room with warmth. Already Emma could easily say it was one of the best days of her life. 

After they’d arrived, Regina had set up all her stuff in the bedroom and the bathroom and she’d actually been pretty amazing about it. She’d given her a tour, too, showing her the open kitchen and the cosiest bedroom she’d ever seen in her life, all dark wood and red throw cushions. Regina made soup, promising that they’d walk into town tomorrow and buy food for something more exciting and Emma almost choked trying to assure her she loved absolutely everything the brunette made. 

And then, just as evening had begun creeping in, settling soft and smothering over the bare treetops and still glassy surface of the lake outside the window, they’d piled onto the couch (as best as they could), and Regina began to talk in a soft quiet voice she’d never heard before, explaining the different paths around the lake, mentioning her childhood and her father and Emma felt herself falling even deeper into her, like an ache in her chest.

“I don’t remember a lot of happy moments from when I was younger,” Regina confessed. Her voice was small but strong, and where her head was resting against Emma’s chest, her soft dark hair smelled like smoke and home. “But most of what there is happened here.” 

Emma swallowed, feeling the brunette’s words like a physical ache. She tilted her head slightly, craning to look at her properly: Regina was nestled into her, and somehow despite everything they were completely entwined, a tangle of jumpers and warmth and skin. She could see her slipper-clad feet brushing against hers under the blanket. Flames leapt and cracked in the brick fireplace. “Must be weird to be back.” She observed softly. 

“It is.” Regina admitted. “It’s nice though.” She paused, and for a moment there was no sound in the whole world except for the fire crackling, and the two of them breathing out of time. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

“Then don’t,” Emma told her. “We can talk about anything.”

“Anything in the world,” Regina confirmed, threading her fingers through Emma’s, watching their hands press together. 

Emma watched too, unable to look away. A feeling of utter peace was settling over her chest, and respite. There was a lump in her throat, not because she couldn’t feel her girlfriend’s fingers winding through hers, but because seeing it was just as good. As good as it had been that night before Christmas. She swallowed.

“You know, um,” Emma spoke softly. Her eyes met Regina’s wide and shining in the low light. “Your birthday present is in my bag. I know it’s not for another week but... You wanna maybe open it now?”

Regina’s eyes trailed up to hers, slow smile stretching over her lips. “Are you remembering the last time you gave me an early gift?”

“Maybe.” Emma grinned. “That kind of worked out well for me, didn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Regina murmured her agreement, propping herself up on one elbow to hover over Emma’s chest and just looking at her, dark hair falling like a curtain around them. With a small smile, she leaned down to press a small kiss on Emma’s lips, lingering there for a moment before pulling back the blanket and standing. “What bag was that?”

“The brown one.” Emma confirmed, eyes following the brunette as she went to the door, just as beautiful with rumpled hair, soft clothes and slipper socks as she was in any of her red-lipstick power heel combinations. “It’s still on the kitchen table, I think.” 

Regina returned a few seconds later, appearing in the doorway with a sleepy smile, bright eyes and a familiar purple-wrapped package in her hands. Brown eyes flickered up to meet hers as she made her way back over to the couch, dropping down beside Emma and quirking an eyebrow.

“Open it,” Emma urged, taken back to the last time.

Regina slid her fingertips under a fold of wrapping paper, carefully unwrapping and smoothing the paper between her fingers, brown eyes wide and searching as she pulled the crackling paper from the gift. Emma watched the smile light up her features at the sight of it, turning into a bright beaming grin as she pulled the scarf out to full length, thumb brushing over the thick material. 

“Oh, Emma,” Regina breathed. “It’s beautiful and so _soft_ – I love it.”

“Yeah.” Emma smiled nervously. “It’s just because you kind of have everything in the world and I mean, it’s hypoallergenic and hand made which I thought you’d like and... I don’t know, I want you to be warm and safe and...”

A shiver ran over Regina’s spine at that. She swallowed, brown eyes meeting green honestly. “I love it.”

“Look inside.” Emma urged. Regina looked confused for a second, but unfolded the scarf completely, picking up the CD case hidden away there. “It’s the band that was playing at the Christmas ball. You remember?”

Regina faltered, scarf in her lap, album held in her hand. “Oh, Emma...”

Emma tilted her head slightly, green eyes wide and honest, never leaving the brunette’s as she opened her mouth to explain. “It’s just that when you danced with me that night that was one of the happiest moments of my life. The happiest I could remember and...”

“That’s what it was for me too.” Regina told her, voice hushed as if telling a secret. After a beat, her lips stretched into a smile. “Thank you.” She leaned closer to press a kiss to Emma’s cheek.

“Just glad you like it,” Emma watched as Regina wound the scarf around her neck, pulling it tight and then standing up abruptly. She was about to ask what she was doing before she realised – the brunette still had the second present held in her hand, and made a beeline for the CD player plugged in the corner. She knelt to open the case and slot it in, pressing play firmly before taking her place by Emma once again. 

After a few seconds, the opening notes soared into the warm air, filling the room with a gentle piano melody only half familiar to her. With the snowy branches jostling around the lake outside the window, the fire crackling in the corner, the piled blankets, the beautiful music all around... happiness, _contentedness_ like that, Emma thought, was nothing short of surreal. 

Regina pressed close against her again, threading her arms tight around her and burrowing her head into the crook of her neck. Emma could feel the warmth of her breath on her skin. She was grateful she had enough movement left in her to drop her head down, softly kiss her hair and the top of her head. 

“I love you,” Regina told her gently. 

Emma smiled: she couldn’t stop smiling. “Love you too.”

Regina lifted herself up on her arms, nose brushing Emma’s. Her eyes were wide and shining, a thousand different shades of brown that Emma could rattle off as well as listing her favourite colours. By this point, it was basically the same thing. Outside, the stars were coming out and the snow was falling thickly, but indoors the warmth of the fire and their beating hearts filled the room with the soaring music.  
Regina kissed her. Eyes fluttering shut, hands warm and curling against her, spreading warmth from her lips all the way down to her toes. Emma leaned forward, moving her mouth gently and firmly against her. Something heavy surged and shifted inside her stomach. They pulled apart for only a second, foreheads touching, before Emma did what little she could, leaning forward and capturing soft lips with hers again. 

When the Regina’s mouth opened under hers, she felt it somewhere deep inside. A low, contented hum escaped the brunette and Emma felt it like a blow to the chest. They kissed longer, slower, deeper, eyes shut and hearts thumping as one, stoking the heat simmering between them.

She couldn’t have said how long went by before they came up for air. Emma leaned in again but Regina drew back, breathless. “Where...” the brunette’s eyes trailed up to find hers, wide and shining. “Where does it stop?”

Emma was lost. “What?”

“Where does it stop?” Regina repeated, voice soft and serious. “I mean... Can you feel this?” She leaned down slowly to press her lips against the underside of Emma’s jaw, warm and soft.

“Yeah.” Emma breathed. A shiver ran down her spine. 

Regina brushed her mouth lower, peppering firm kisses along the heated skin of her neck. “And this...?”

Emma swallowed hard, heart thumping like a wild thing. “Yeah.”

“And...” Regina shifted closer, lower, all hot breath and soft touch and sweet perfume, music around them. 

Emma felt the brunettes lips moving surely down, down the tight cords of her neck, the hollow of her throat and then... She swallowed hard, lump appearing in her throat as her eyes found Regina’s. “Nothing.” 

“I love you.” Regina told her, for the hundredth time. Her voice was suddenly stronger and weaker all at once, loud and wavering. One soft hand curled around Emma’s cheek, making her look into her eyes. He words trembled slightly. “ _So much_.”

Emma surged forwards as much as she could, claiming full lips with hers again, desperate to just do this for herself, to just feel, to love Regina as much as she could. She swallowed the brunette’s gasp, mouth moving hard and feverishly against hers, tongue stroking over Regina’s. Her eyes squeezed shut. 

When they finally parted, Regina’s chest was heaving against hers. Her eyes were wide, dark and dilated, lips parted, breath uneven. Dark hair was rumpled around her face. _God, she’s beautiful._ Green eyes raced over her, trying to commit every detail to memory. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and Emma could feel heat burning in her own face. 

“Do you remember,” Emma managed, voice low and unsteady. She swallowed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “The night you let me hold you, when I told you it didn’t even matter I couldn’t feel you in my arms because I could see it? And I could feel it _inside_ , where it really mattered.” 

Regina nodded slightly, wide brown eyes warm in the soft orange light of the fire. Emma’s mouth was dry, eyes unblinking and never leaving hers. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and honest and cracking open. “I want to see.” 

The change in the air was immediate. 

Regina stared, pulse hammering like mad in her temples and her wrists. “Emma...” She trailed off, searching green eyes as the music swelled around them. 

“Take my hand.” Emma said. “I need to feel you. I need –”

Regina reached to take the blonde’s hand, fingers wrapping around hers and gently lifting it to her face as she had done before, pressing her cheek against her palm and feeling Emma’s fingertips skitter clumsily over her skin. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Emma breathed, barely audible over the music and the fire crackling. In the firelight, her pale skin was bathed in an orange glow, long hair tangled over her shoulders, casting shadows across the curve of her cheekbones. There was a feeling sparking between them, popping and crackling like electricity.

Regina closed her eyes, leaning in to the touch as Emma forced her fingers to comply, brushing over lips and cheek and jaw in small jagged motions. When she opened them again, Emma was staring at her intently. “Lower.” The blonde said. 

“Emma –”

“ _Please,_ ” Emma cut her off, voice tremulous. Heart thumping, she took a moment to avoid her eyes and collect herself, breathing in slowly before repeating herself. “Please.” 

Wordlessly, Regina trailed their joined hands down the flushed skin of her neck. She couldn’t help the way her breath hitched or her own hand shook. Emma’s clumsy caresses were lighting her on fire, reminding her of places and feelings she’d almost forgotten existed. _So long. So long_. 

Emma watched their hands moving, entranced. Desperate to feel her more directly. 

As if reading her mind, Regina dropped her hand for a moment and sat up straighter. Her hands dropped to the hem of her own turtleneck sweater, eyes meeting Emma’s and catching her nod before grasping the fabric and pulling it up over her head. She swallowed, laying the discarded jumper on the arm of the couch. Emma’s breath caught in her throat at the sight. 

Goosebumps prickled over her newly bared skin. Without the sweater, Regina was left in a skimpy lace camisole, and she could feel Emma’s eyes roving over her. 

Regina couldn’t help the warmth that rushed to her face. It was silly; she was a grown up woman, more than capable of handling herself and intimacy. And yet there was something about the way Emma’s gaze darkened and softened as she looked at her, the way her breath sped up that made her feel more beautiful, more wanted than she ever had. 

Emboldened by her girlfriend’s stare, Regina took Emma’s face in her hands and kissed her. A moan sounded between them though neither woman could say who it had come from. Emma nipped at a full bottom lip, trailed her mouth down her jaw, pressed a kiss to the scar above her lips. Regina’s breath was coming shallower now and it was making Emma dizzy. A pair of slender olive hands found their way under Emma’s red sweater, fingers playing against her stomach. “Can I?”

“God yes,” Emma groaned between kisses, Regina all but climbing into her lap to rid her of her sweater. Eager fingers tugged at the material. _Except what about_ – the thought occurred to her suddenly. She tried to break the kiss, ducking her head and catching her breath. “Wait – Regina –”

“What?” The brunette sat back, chest heaving. Her brown eyes were wide. 

Emma swallowed, recalling the mental inventory she’d been used to rattling off for nearly two years. “They’re all over the place and kind of irregular.” Her voice was breathless, but she fought to get it under control. “There’s a few on my shoulder from shrapnel, and those are the jagged pink kind you see on TV. The one on my stomach where they took the skin graft is –”

Regina shook her head, lost. “What?”

“My scars.” Emma told her. “From the accident.” 

Something in Regina’s chest _broke_. Mouth dry, she leaned closer to reach up and tuck a flyaway strand of blonde hair behind Emma’s ear before her hands dropped back to their usual safe position on her shoulders. “Emma...” She trailed off, unsure how to say everything she wanted to.

The blonde gave her a pained but earnest smile, green eyes flickering up to meet hers even as she ducked her head. 

“Do you still want...” Regina’s eyes found hers, making sure. 

After few moments of nothing but soaring piano and cursive violin coming from the CD player, Emma nodded once, twice. And then, lifting her eyes to the brunette’s, she cleared her throat. “As long as you do.”

Regina kept her eyes on Emma’s as she leaned forward to seal their lips into another kiss, hands finding the hem of Emma’s sweater again and tugging firmly. With some teamwork, they managed to get the thing over her head and discarded beside Regina’s on the side of the couch. Under the straps of Emma’s tank top, Regina could see the scars she’d been talking about. 

“You’re perfect.” Regina told her softly. “You know that?”

Emma made a sound that fell somewhere short of a laugh. “I think you’re getting us mixed up –”

“Shh.” Regina laid a finger against her lips, catching her gaze and holding it. “You are.”

“If I’m perfect,” Emma breathed, barely audible against the fire and the music and the rushing of her heart in her ears. “Then you’re unreal.” 

Regina laughed gently, the sound unfamiliar in her own ears. “I can live with that,” She admitted, brown eyes finding sparkling green. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled, she leaned back to grasp the hem of her camisole and with a breath like a diver surfacing for the first time, pulled it over her head in one swift and fluid motion. 

When their lips touched again, and her hand found Emma’s, it really did feel as though they were the only two people in the world. 

-0-

When Emma woke up the next morning, golden sunlight spilled in from the deep-set window and pooled over the bed, piled high with blankets. 

The first thing she was aware of was Regina’s head tucked in the crook of her neck, the soft tickle of hair against skin, the warmth and weight of her body. She was pretty sure she was still asleep; she was breathing softly, steadily, quietly. A smile ghosted over Emma’s mouth. A feeling of lightness danced in her stomach. She felt like she was about to burst out laughing. 

A wedge of golden morning light fell through the crack in the curtains and fell over the mahogany bedposts, warm against her face. Emma laid beneath the thickly piled blankets – not that she could do much else – and relished the light, dancing feeling in her stomach. Beyond the window, early morning sunlight fractured off the bare branches and the distant gleam of the lake, shining like a dropped coin amongst the trees. She watched a bird hop from branch to branch for a few moments before flying off in a flap of wings. The world was sparkling, crystallised with frost, and Emma was no different. She was sparkling too. 

Emma turned her head on the pillow to look across at Regina, exhaling slowly. 

The other woman was nestled into her side, soft dark hair brushing over her face. Her lips were slightly parted, chest moving up and down lightly as she breathed. Emma’s heart stirred at the sight of her. Eyelashes resting on her cheek, bare shoulder escaping the duvet, completely relaxed and at peace, Regina had never been more beautiful. For once, it was enough just to trail her eyes over her and know that she was hers. 

As pale light crept over the floor and shifted over the walls with the rising sun, the brunette released a long, sleepy moan, back stretching, pushing herself further into the pillows. A smile stretched over Emma’s mouth. “Hey,” She spoke softly, nudging rumpled dark hair with her nose.

Regina hummed in agreement, still half-asleep as she rolled over and snuggled closer into Emma’s side, wrapping an arm around her taut stomach and resting her head on her chest. Her cheek rested over Emma’s heartbeat, and Emma released a sigh she’d been holding for a long time. 

While the brunette slowly stirred awake, piece by piece, Emma closed her eyes and let the light wash over her face, flashes of the night before drifting through her mind. Dark eyes meeting hers, shining with the reflected glow of firelight. Soft hands, softer lips. How beautiful Regina had looked, how beautiful she’d felt. _How right._ Somehow wheeling to the bedroom somewhere after midnight, giggling. Drunk on each other. 

“Good morning,” Regina’s sleepy voice greeted, languid and happy. 

Emma grinned, turning her head to catch her eyes. “It is a _very_ good morning.”

The brunette pushed herself up onto one elbow under the covers, drowsily leaning to kiss her cheek. With a happy sigh, she dropped back down against the pillows. Regina turned her head to meet Emma’s eyes, green and sparkling and bright as the smile dimpling her cheeks. Laughter bubbled up in her chest. She didn’t try to stop it. 

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, watching the sun melt the frost off the spindly branches outside, the birds soar in the wide blue sky. When the sun was completely up and the antique clock on the bedside table was ticking towards midday, Regina sat up to stretch her spine, throwing back the blankets. 

“Hey,” Emma protested.

“It’s midday.” Regina told her, warm eyes meeting hers pointedly. She smiled. “I’m going to go and make breakfast. I’d ask for requests but we still need to go into town. We can do that later, maybe before I take you around the lake?”

Emma smiled and nodded. “Sounds perfect.” 

Regina stood up and stretched, and Emma couldn’t help ogling slightly – warm sunlight washed over her golden skin, bare beneath her camisole and lace from last night. She stared as the brunette went about bringing her wheelchair around and kneeling to turn it on. Regina must have caught her looking, because she glanced up with a smirk. “Pervert.” 

“Says you,” Emma countered, raising her eyebrows and thinking back to last night. 

Regina laughed. “Touché.” 

The morning progressed slowly and happily, both women in a kind of dream state. Emma sat in her chair in the kitchen while Regina cooked breakfast, humming along to the song on the radio. She was dancing slightly too, hips swaying, and a smile lit up her bare face. It was probably the freest and most genuine Emma had ever seen her. 

By the time they were done with breakfast it was coming on two o’clock, and Regina was absolutely insisted they needed to go out and buy groceries. Emma relented pretty easily. Besides, she was looking forward to going out in the woods and seeing the lake properly. There was no snow today, just a light dusting of frost that made the world look like a true winter wonderland. 

Having helped Emma into her things, Regina was getting dressed in the bedroom when Emma heard the sharp knock on the door. 

“It’s open!” Emma called, wheeling herself down the hallway towards the door. It was probably just the post or a resident of one of the other cabins. Regina said they’d probably stop by and say hi once they saw the minivan parked up outside. 

The door opened sharply with a rush of cold air and Emma felt her features draw back into a frown. The woman on the step was aging and elegant, wearing a white trench coat and a critical frown. The stranger stared at her as if she was an alien, dark eyes calculating as they swept over her. There were two matching suitcases at her heeled feet. Blue. Louis Vuitton. _Nice_.

Emma frowned. “Who are you?”

It was Regina that answered her, stepping up behind her with her wide eyes shining, blasted open, lips slightly parted. She took a moment to collect herself before breathing, in a voice Emma struggled to recognise - “Mother.”


	24. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am so sorry I left you hanging like that! And for so long! I really would have got this posted but show week kicked my ass! 
> 
> So here we go. Just to be safe, I'm going to give a trigger warning now for referenced past emotional abuse.
> 
> As always, huge love to all of you reading and spreading the love!

“Mother,” Regina repeated, frozen in the hallway. She blinked, once, twice, mouth open. Emma could practically see her mind working . “What...”

“Yes, darling.” A frosty smile flashed on the woman’s red lips before she swept into the hallway, suitcase dragging noisily after her. She leaned close to pull Regina into the quickest, stiffest hug Emma had ever seen. The woman - Cora, Emma remembered dimly – removed herself to hold her daughter at arm’s length, bright dark eyes cold. “If I’d known you were here I wouldn’t have dropped in on you so suddenly! You didn’t tell me.”

“No, I...” Regina trailed off, mouth hanging open. Her voice sounded very young and soft. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here, Mother. You hate this place.” 

“Yes, well,” Cora’s lips flattened into a tight line. “Your father’s away on a work weekend and I’m having the house redecorated. You know I can’t abide the smell of paint, it’s not good for my migraines.” 

Regina paused, brow slightly furrowed, cheeks pink. The door was still standing open – a chilly gust of wind rattled through the bare trees outside and into the hallway. Emma shivered. The pale winter light gleamed off Cora’s dark auburn hair. Her eyes never left her daughter.  
“You’re looking...” The smile froze on her face as she swept a critical gaze over Regina, lingering on her outfit. The brunette was clad comfortably in Emma’s red knit sweater, yoga pants and winter boots, face mostly clean of make up. “Cosy.” Cora finished. Finally, her cool dark stare landed on Emma. Whatever she was really thinking, her face didn’t show it. Emma braced herself. 

“And you must be Emma.” Cora’s voice was light and controlled, red smile frozen on her lips. “How wonderful it is to finally meet you. I must say, I was getting concerned.” 

“Um,” Emma stared. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Yes, well. You must forgive me for not meeting you sooner.” Cora gave a smile that could cut glass. “My daughter doesn’t think it’s appropriate to involve me in her private life.”

“Mother –” Regina tried feebly. 

“Take one of my cases, sweetheart, you know my arthritis is spreading.” Cora barely spared a glance as Regina rushed to close the door behind her and take the suitcase. “Now, are we going to stand about in the hallway all day? Come on. I need a good strong coffee.”

She brushed past Emma and Regina without a second glance, heels clacking loudly on the hardwood floor, staring around the corner and into the den. “Henry!” Cora called. “Henry!” Her lips pursed into the start of a frown. “Where’s my grandson?”

“He’s in Portland for the weekend, Mother.” Regina reminded her. “With Robin.” 

Cora made a tutting noise to show what she thought of that. “I do wish you’d tell me these things, Regina.”

“Well, it’s only one weekend.” Regina told her, words clipped and polite, almost sharp. Underneath though, Emma could hear the waver of uncertainty. “I didn’t think it was any of your concern.” 

A heavy sigh escaped from the older woman as she turned, hastily unbuttoning her trench coat. She folded it carefully over her arm the same way Regina did. “Sweetheart, Cora sighed theatrically. “We’ve talked about this. Now come on, how about that coffee?” A fresh smile appeared on her lips. “I want to hear about everything.” 

-0-

Ten minutes later, and Emma was sitting in her wheelchair at the coffee table, enjoying the most tense conversation of her entire life.   
She’d sat and listened in a state of shock as Cora had sat herself down on the same sofa where they’d done stuff just the night before, going on about so and so from the club and the new interior designer and Regina’s dad and, most of all, Regina herself. Airy complaints, most of it, and thinly veiled disapproval. It became clear almost instantly why Regina never talked about her – after five minutes with her Emma was ready to wheel herself out into the lake and end it all, and Regina had to deal with this her whole life. 

Somewhere after Cora started low-key bitching about how _surprised_ she was to find them here, Emma began studying her, trying to work out what exactly her deal was. She was sitting perfectly upright on the couch in her pantsuit and Rolex, and she kept pursing her lips. There was something off about her, some energy that was just irrevocably _cold_. There was no other way to put it.

Weirdly though, she didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to Emma’s chair. 

Part of Emma knew that was probably the first thing Regina had told her about her new life and job in Storybrooke – _caring for a quadriplegic woman_. Pretty self explanatory. But still, even people that already knew tended to linger a little too long on the big black chair, make some kind of awkward comment. There was none of that from Cora. And for the first time ever, that wasn’t... Nice. 

Something was very off. Emma just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. 

Thankfully, Regina returned quickly to set down two steaming cups of coffee on the table (on coasters, Emma noticed. They’d hadn’t used those yesterday.) and one hands-free hot cocoa and cinnamon for Emma. Emma watched her put them down, and could have sworn her knuckles were turning white on the handles. 

Regina breathed in sharply, tucking her hair behind her ears and taking a seat beside her mother on the couch, eyes fixed firmly on her coffee. Emma glanced warily between them, weirdly aware of her heart thudding in her chest. An awkward silence fell heavily over the three of them. 

She couldn’t help the sudden rush of heat to her face – she knew how detached Regina was from her mom, how quiet she got when she was even mentioned, let alone talked about. She had no idea how much Cora knew about their relationship, if anything.

After what seemed like forever, Regina took a little breath and glanced in her mother’s direction. “How long did you say you were staying?”

“A day or two. Just long enough for the designers to get the house cleared up.” Cora clarified, taking a scalding sip of her coffee. Her neat brows drew into a slight frown. “Is there milk in this, Regina?”

Regina nodded. “Just a splash.” Her voice was very small and timid, completely different to anything Emma had ever heard before. It made something in her chest tighten. “I thought that was how you liked it.”

“ _Soy_ milk, darling.” Cora corrected, setting the cup pointedly back down with a look that said she wasn’t going to touch it again. “Never mind. Anyway, that’s enough about me. I’m sure I’ve been boring poor Emma senseless.” She breathed in and flashed another icy white smile. _Honestly. The woman’s like a Disney villain_. “Tell me, darling. How are you?” 

Regina drew in a sharp breath as if she’d been hit. After a moment, she visibly steeled herself and fixed on a half-hearted smile. The brunette nodded, gripping her coffee cup between her hands like a life raft. “Oh, you know.” Big, uncertain eyes braved a glance towards her mother. “Everything’s good.” 

“Everything’s good?” Cora gave a high, derisive chuckle, eyes seeking her daughter’s. “What's that supposed to tell me? Specifics, dear. What are you doing here in the first place?”

“It was a weekend getaway, Mother,” Regina explained. “For my birthday.”

“Your birthday!” Cora repeated, white smile frozen on her face. Something about the sudden shift in her eyes set Emma’s stomach on edge. “You didn’t tell me you were doing anything for your birthday.” Her voice was sharp. Reprimanding, although she looked almost hurt. It was pretty clear they weren’t just talking about Regina’s birthday. “I could have come up properly. I would have brought your gift.”

When Regina opened her mouth, her voice was breathy and hurried, weak and wincing. “I was going to –”

“Come on, Regina,” Cora’s gaze darkened, her smile vanished. Her own voice had dropped to a lower, harsher, more honest tone. “How do you think that felt turning up to find you here with her?” She shook her head. “Just like that dreadful horse boy all over again –”

“Daniel, Mother.” Regina reprimanded. “His name was Daniel and you know how I feel about you talking about him like that –”

“Oh, don't start on that one now.” She turned to Emma for a second. “Honestly, fifteen years and she’s still having the same tantrum. It’s all very silly. Anyway, darling -”

“Mother,” Regina’s voice was small. It sounded like she already knew it was futile. It sounded the heart wrenching way, Emma realised, that it had always sounded when she talked about her mother. 

Emma’s mind was racing, running back through all the dozens of times Cora had been brought up in conversation, all those times Regina had winced or snapped or gone quiet, all those times her defences had snapped back up. _Now I finally know why_. 

_God. God!_ Her mouth was dry, chest tight, stomach knotted. On the arms of her chair, her fingertips curled clumsily as much as she could. A sudden anger was flashing through her, red hot and explosive, thudding in her chest like a ticking time bomb. _So much anger_. Building up like a fire, hotter and hotter, kindled by the sight of this woman, this woman who had clearly hurt Regina _so much_ \- 

“Fine,” Cora allowed, forcing her features into a tight smile. “Why don’t we have some lunch then, hmm? Presuming the two of you don’t already have plans –”

“I’m sorry Mother, I – I’m not hungry.” Regina swallowed, setting her cup down on its coaster on the table. She stood sharply, features creasing in a split-second of discomfort. “Excuse me.”

Emma stared after her as she disappeared out into the hallway, feeling fury turn to a heavy ache in her chest and settle over her thickly as the snow outside. She didn’t look at Cora when she spoke – she didn’t trust herself not to rage and fight and fucking _break down_ that she couldn’t stand up and ask what the hell was going on. 

Instead, she used every fibre of hope she had left to push down on the right buttons to swing herself around and follow Regina out of the living room, wishing she could go faster with every whirr and click of her wheels against the floor. “Sorry,” She swallowed. “I’m going to see if she’s alright –”

_We both already know the answer._

Her heart was thumping hard as she rounded the corner, making her way to where the bedroom door was ajar, a thin slice of light from the window falling out into the hallway. 

“Regina,” Emma called, voice low and snappy under her breath as she wheeled herself down the hallway. She wished she didn’t sound like that. Chest tight, she finally turned into the bedroom. The door was propped open. “Regina, hey,”

The brunette glanced up sharply at her entrance. She was pacing – treading the same tight circles over the hardwood floors, fingers twisting and twining anxiously in front of her stomach. Emma’s heart sunk at the sight of her face – she looked more torn up than Emma had ever seen her, dark eyes wide and shining, perfect brow creased, jaw tense. There was a nervous, fluttery energy trapped in the room like a caged bird. 

“You ran off pretty quickly back there,” Emma’s eyes tracked hers, following her as she paced. Her heels clicked softly against the floor. Her movements were very tight and controlled, tense enough to almost look afraid. “What the hell just happened?” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Regina admitted, shaking her head. Her fingers drummed against each other. A shaft of sunlight speared through the winter clouds outside the steamy window, lighting up the look on her face. _God_. Emma’s stomach churned uncomfortably. “I just –” She breathed in sharply, clearly trying to stay calm and collected. A nervous hand brushed back the dark hair from her face. “I just wasn’t expecting her to _show up_ , I –” Regina bit herself off, shaking her head slightly. Her brown eyes shone, focused on something Emma couldn’t see. She lifted a hand to her forehead, swallowing hard. “I can’t –”

“You don’t have to,” Emma told her softly, forcing her voice to stay level. “Come on, sit down. We need to talk about what just happened.” 

Regina sighed, striding to perch primly on the end of the bed. Emma wheeled herself in front of her and looked at her – _really_ looked at her. The brunette was sitting perfectly upright, every muscle in her body as tense as if she was afraid. Her eyebrows were furrowed slightly, lips parted. Her dark eyes shone. She looked young. She looked torn. She looked the way Emma used to look before a panic attack. 

Emma’s chest _sunk_. 

The fury coiled tight in her belly lashed out into her chest, burning hot. She clenched her jaw. She didn’t know what the hell had happened with Regina and that woman in the den but just the thought of... Her fingers curled as tight as they could against the armrest of her chair. She tried to squash it down, forced herself to stay calm and steady for Regina.

“Hey,” Emma searched for her gaze, voice low and unsteady. _Hey._ ”

Regina swallowed, looking up and meeting her look, brown eyes hard and soft and sad. The winter sunlight shone on her dark hair. She was trying to look fine, and failing. “Hey.” Her jaw tightened, voice wavering.

“Regina,” She’d had it all planned out in her head, some big declaration that would give them both the booth they needed, some altered version of all the times Regina had spoken out and done that for her but faced with reality, Emma found herself speechless. 

“I’m sorry,” Regina’s voice came out tiny and hoarse. She breathed in sharply, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “I just wanted this to be our _perfect weekend_...”

“And it was.” Emma didn’t miss a beat. She made sure to hold Regina’s gaze, talking fast and steadily. “Last night was _magic_ , Regina. Nobody can take that away from us, least of all her.” She paused, searching for a solution. “Maybe... Is there any way you can talk to her?” She tried. “Get her to leave, or...”

“No. That woman is _insane!_ ” Regina hissed, dark eyes wide. She took another sharp intake of breath, wide panicked eyes finding Emma’s. “I can’t – I can’t be here with her.” She shook her head. “I just can’t.”

“Okay,” Emma nodded. “So what do you want to do?”

The look in the brunette’s eyes in the pause that followed made Emma wonder if anyone had ever asked her that before. She’d been so caught up in her own issues, she hadn’t even realised... 

“We have to go,” Regina told her eventually, dark eyes earnest, voice clear. “We have to _go_.”

Emma looked at her, at the panicky glint in her eyes, the fear in the crease of her brow, the stress in the vein in her forehead and the shallow breath falling from her parted lips, and she wished she could reach out and take her hand. A heavy feeling fell over her chest. She swallowed, and nodded. “Okay.” 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Regina breathed, turning to her with a soft, sad, incredulous look that just broke Emma’s heart. 

“Whatever you need.” Emma told her honestly, green eyes finding brown. “Really.” She nodded. “Now. I’m not going to let you drive like this so how about we make some excuse for you to take me around the lake, we both... calm down, a bit, and then we come back and pack and go afterwards?” 

Regina nodded. In the cold yellow sunlight from the open window, glaring off the frost, she looked impossibly small. It made Emma want to take her somewhere far away and keep her safe. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She nodded. 

And maybe, together, it would be. 

-0-

They’d been walking for maybe ten minutes, just after the snow began to fall, when Emma summoned the courage to break the silence.   
Regina had left the house pushing her, insisting that the path was too overgrown in places for her to make her own way. Somewhere along the line that had been proven wrong, and a fragile quiet had fallen over them as they followed the path side by side. 

It was as beautiful as Regina had told her, bare branches jostling with snow-flecked evergreens overhead, the path carpeted in pine needles and frost-crusted leaves; even the puddles glinted in the pale sunlight, glazed with thin sheets of ice. Through the trees, the lake stretched further than it seemed to from inside the cabin, flat and silver as glass, reflecting a harsh glare of sunlight that made Emma squint. The wheels of her chair whirred and clicked loudly over the unfamiliar terrain. 

Regina walked beside her with her eyes downcast. Her breath left puffs of cold white air hanging in front of her. She seemed somehow smaller than usual, less dynamic. The air between them was icy and thick with words unsaid. 

Emma cleared her throat. “So your mom, huh?” She winced. _Way to break the ice._ A chilly gust of wind stung her cheeks and made her eyes water. 

Regina nodded, hands buried deep in the pockets of her big grey coat. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the frosty ground as they walked, lips set in a thin line. Twigs snapped under her feet, frosty brown leaves crunching.

“She didn’t hit me if that’s what you’re thinking,” Regina said quietly, after a while. Emma turned to her, green eyes wide. She was still looking at the ground, focused on navigating the overgrown path. “I used to wish she would so I’d have a legitimate reason for the way I felt. I thought it would be easier.” 

“Regina...” Emma trailed off, unsure what to say. It felt like she’d been punched in the chest, back when she knew what that felt like. 

“She had these big plans for me,” Regina explained, watching her breath fog in the cold air as she trudged along, Emma wheeling slowly beside her. Her voice was calm and level – very controlled. “I was going to go to Harvard or Yale, start a business, marry some big influential politician.” She breathed in and an incredulous smile brushed over her lips for a half second. “I was a child. I just wanted to ride horses and be happy.” Emma watched Regina glance back down at the ground, biting her lip. “That didn’t exactly come into Mother’s plan.” 

There was a long pause, filled with the sounds of leaves crunching and a bird chirping in the distance. The cold was stinging Emma’s lungs.

“She didn’t accept anything short of perfection.” Regina finished, and Emma heard the whisper of a tremor in her voice.

“I tried so hard to be everything she wanted. I just... Couldn’t.” She breathed in. “And I felt so ashamed, because she did everything for me. Spent her whole life working and making sacrifices so that I would have a better life than she did.” Regina explained. “She used to tell me that all the time. That I should have been grateful. That she didn’t understand why I didn’t appreciate her. We didn't know how to talk to each other, so we messed it all up instead. Hurt each other.” 

“She used to tell me I was too stupid too see it. If only I was more like her, then I would understand.” Regina’s voice was unsteady now, low and hard. “She controlled everything I did. Bought all my clothes and told me when to wear them, planned my diets, decided who I was going to be friends with. If I failed a test or did something she didn’t like she’d... She never hit me, but,” The brunette broke off suddenly, branch snapping harshly under her feet. “She made me feel useless. She drove off my first boyfriend because he worked at the _stables_ for the minimum wage. She found us here one weekend and that was the end of it.” 

The brunette cleared her throat, brow furrowing slightly. “I thought it was because of me. When I was younger, I thought that if I was just smarter or more ambitious or cared more about the things she did then everything would be alright.” She breathed in, glancing skyward for a moment. “I know now that she’s the one who was wrong, not me. I know that. I just can’t help it... Every time I see her, those feelings all just come back.” The brunette swallowed hard, glancing out across the windswept lake. She'd never told anyone all this before. Not even Robin. "The worst part is I know it hurts her too. And I don't know how to make it better."

“When Henry was born I was terrified.” Regina confessed. She turned to Emma, with a look in her eyes that Emma thought she finally understood. “I thought I was going to be like her. I still... That’s why I was so afraid in the divorce, taking him with me, moving to Storybrooke... I thought I was doing what she did to me.” 

“Henry loves you,” Emma assured her. “That kid is _thriving_.”

“I know,” Regina agreed, voice small. 

“You're an amazing mother,” Emma told her, watching her look out across the lake, wind teasing a few strands of dark hair across her pensive face. "Take it from someone who didn't have one for fourteen years."

Regina turned to her as they trudged on, managing a small brave smile through windblown hair. Brown eyes met Emma's for a moment, full of gratitude and warmth. 

“She didn’t hit me,” She repeated. “She just...” Regina reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the tip tinged pink from the cold. She swallowed. “It was like she was going _out of her way_ to prove to me that I wasn’t enough.” Her voice thick and unsteady. Soft flakes of snow were beginning to catch in her dark hair. 

“But she didn’t,” Emma heard herself saying, voice soft and steady. Taking a bracing breath of freezing air, she wheeled herself forward, twigs snapping under her whirring wheels. Regina’s dark eyes tracked hers, wide and shining. “You’re incredible. In _every_ sense of the word. More than enough for –” She swallowed. “Well. Let’s just say I meant it, when I said anyone would be blessed to have you.” 

Regina stared, snowflakes melting on her cheeks. “Emma,”

“Look, Regina. Here’s the thing,” Emma explained softly. “For a long time I felt like absolutely nothing. I was nothing. Barely saw the point in waking up in the morning. _You_ showed me I was wrong. You made me realise I good enough for the first time in... Maybe ever.” She swallowed hard, cheeks stinging in the wind and snow. “Now I’m going to do the same for you.” She smiled softly, despite the pain in her chest. “Whether you like it or not.” 

“Oh, Emma,” Regina breathed, leaning down in the snow to rest her hands on the armrests of Emma’s chair and kiss her softly, like she had the first time. Snow continued to fall all around them, pine needles falling to the ground, but their shared warmth only blossomed. Cold white breath hung between them. 

“Come on,” Emma said softly, chest aching. “Let’s go home.” 

“Okay,” Regina straightened with a breath, staring out across the flat silver lake through the trees for a moment, the smallest, bravest smile on her lips. A winter breeze wound through her dark hair. She held Emma’s hand in her own as they made their way back through the woods, and for once it was enough to just be able to squeeze back, just a little.

-0-

Of course, things never went smoothly. 

Regina, at least, was doing better after their walk, Emma thought. The cold air and soft snow had cleared both of their heads. They’d broken the news of their departure to Cora together, and Regina had gone into the bedroom to pack, clearly feeling much more settled than before. Emma was just wheeling out into the living room to see if they’d left anything in there when she nearly wheeled right into her – she nearly jumped right out of her skin. 

“Jesus,” Emma muttered under her breath, trying to control herself.

“No, just me.” Cora corrected, without a hint of humour in her voice. Dark eyes found hers. “I’ve been meaning to catch you alone. Do you have a minute?”

_Damn it_. Emma’s heart thudded faster in her chest. “Um, sure. Just...”

“Good. You know I’d been waiting to meet you.” Cora’s eyes swept over her, cold, appraising. Once again, anger flared through her, boiling in her blood. Was this how Regina had been looked at her entire life? “This mysterious woman my daughter and my grandson spoke so highly of.”

“That’s me,” Emma managed, hearing the tight fury strain her voice. She frowned, trying to keep herself under control. It was just hard, when she was feeling so much, when she looked at this stupid, self-righteous, controlling _bitch_ and all she was thinking of was brown eyes, and sad kids from bad homes, and _it was like she was going out of her way to prove to me that I wasn’t enough_. 

It would have been so much easier if she could have just hated her. Painted her as some storybook villain they would defeat in the end. And when she thought of all those things, Regina's soft sad eyes and conflicted voice, she wanted to. Emma _wanted_ to hate her _so much_. But the problem was between both Regina and Cora, and it was hurting both of them. What Cora did was wrong, but she was suffering for it too. And after all, who was Emma to judge when she'd treated her own parents like trash after the accident? 

Still, she refused to let her stare drop from Cora’s for one second. As far as she could tell, this woman had gone through her whole life scaring everybody into line, bullying people into doing exactly what she wanted. Emma was not going to be one of those people. 

“I’m not a fool, Miss Swan, despite what you and Regina might think. I can read between the lines.” Cora informed her crisply. Dark eyes found hers, so similar and so different from her daughter's. “I know what’s going on between the two of you.” 

“Great,” Emma muttered, struggling to keep her voice flat. “Then you should be happy for her.”

Cora’s mouth tightened, hard eyes flicking over her once again. Emma was suddenly overly aware of the scuff on her boot, the fray in her jeans. _The chair_. “Whatever it is you think of me, Miss Swan, I assure you, Regina is my first priority. I care _deeply_ about what happens to her.” She swallowed – Emma could see the muscles in her neck working. “Tell me. What is it you provide for my daughter?” 

Emma clenched her jaw, green eyes flickering up to meet hers. She choked down everything she really wanted to say, forcing her voice to stay level and earnest. “Well, I love her. How’s that for a start?” 

Cora sighed, clearly unimpressed. “Miss Swan...” 

Another sudden flare of rage leapt through her. “If this is because I’m in a wheelchair –”

“I don’t care about your disability.” Cora informed her blithely. “Why should I? That doesn’t impact who you are. And who _you_ are is an unemployed thirty two old who lives with her parents in the middle of nowhere.” The older woman paused, taking a moment to look out the window, where the harsh sunlight was glaring off the lake and melting the snow. "I have no doubt you mean well. But the simple truth is that this - what you're doing - isn't going to work."

Emma tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. “I –” She faltered for a moment, mind racing, stomach flipping. _Don’t let her get to you. Don’t_. Her fingers twitched on the armrests, hot tight anger and something else twitching in her chest. 

"Come on, Miss Swan," Cora's voice was almost sad when their eyes met. "You can't really think there's a future here. I'm sure you're helping her move on from that banal ex-husband of hers but sooner or later my daughter will come to her senses and come back home. It's what's best for her and for Henry."

"You're wrong," Emma began, mouth dry. She didn't know what to say next. 

All of a sudden, it all seemed so stupid. Why was she even arguing with this woman, who clearly had no idea what was best for any of them? What was the point? She didn’t need this. Maybe someday they could heal whatever scars the past had made and move forward but right now all that mattered was that she loved Regina and they were going to be happy together. What mattered was what had happened last night, the gentle magic that blossomed between them as they came together. The smiles, and the peace. The thought gave her some bizarre lift of courage. 

Emma shook her head. “No, you know what, this is bullshit. I shouldn’t have to prove myself to you. I care a great deal about your daughter and that’s all you need to be concerned with.”

Those dark eyes were suddenly steel. “Believe it or not, Miss Swan, but the two of us have something in common and that's Regina. If you truly want what's best for her, remember what I've said.” 

“I know you fail to see how I fit into the picture, but Regina doesn’t.” Emma swallowed. Where she found the courage, she didn’t know. “And I don’t.” She paused, and then pressed down hard, turning herself around. They hadn’t left anything in here after all. “So we’re going to go now. And we’re going to be happy.”

She didn’t wait for Cora’s response. 

“Come on, Regina,” Emma muttered, wheeling back into the bedroom just in time to see Regina zipping up the final case. When their eyes met across the sunlit room, she knew at once where she’d found that strength. “Let’s go.”

After they'd said their tense goodbyes, as they stepped out onto the gravel drive in the blustery winds and piled into the minivan, there was nothing Emma wanted more than to be able to reach out and squeeze Regina’s hand.


	25. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter. This is a fillery one, but all I’ll say is enjoy the calm while you can, because I’ve got big plans for the next couple of chapters... 
> 
> College has seriously made every update slower, but I can promise you I’m still having the best experience writing this. 
> 
> As always, huge love and gratitude to all of you!

The drive back was mostly silence.

It didn’t snow again, but the roads were still mostly empty, and the drive seemed to stretch on for hours. Still, Emma forced herself to stay awake, refusing to leave Regina alone for even a second. She wished she could drive. She wished she could say something.  
Instead, she leaned her head against the foggy window and watched the pine trees and empty roads fly by, sinking deep into herself. Neither of them spoke. It was like they’d agreed not to – the air in the minivan seemed somehow heavy, loaded, thick with things that didn’t need to be said. Emma’s mouth was dry, and her mind was filled with echoes. 

_I love you_ , Emma thought, catching Regina’s face in the windscreen reflection. I love you I love you I love you I love you. 

It went by surprisingly quickly, a blur of dirty snow melting on tarmac and brown pine needles on the windshield. She started recognising roads before she knew it – and all of a sudden, four hours had gone by and they were passing the faded old _welcome to Storybrooke_ sign that hadn’t moved since she was a kid. 

A few streets away from home, the minivan drew to an abrupt stop, idling by the kerb. They were a couple of minutes away from the mayor’s house, where she’d drop Emma off before going home to wait for Henry – Regina had texted Robin their updates and he said Henry wanted to come back early. Still.  
Emma leaned forward softly. “Regina?”

“I’m sorry, we can get going again in a minute.” Regina told her quickly, voice strained and tight. She winced, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. A long, low sigh escaped her. Her forehead nearly rested on the wheel. “I don’t want Henry to see me like this.”

Emma managed a soft little smile, despite the dull pain knifing through her chest. “You have time,” She reminded her gently. 

Regina twisted around in the drivers seat, meeting her eyes with a tiny nod and a hint of a smile. “Thank you.” 

They sat for a few moments, watching the breeze shake the bare branches of the spindly little trees lining the pavement outside, before Regina straightened up suddenly with a sharp breath. “You know what,” The brunette pulled down the sun shield, peering at herself in the tiny mirror and dabbing at the make up under her eyes. “I’m not letting her win again. I can’t.” She breathed in slowly, hands going back to the wheel. Regina twisted around in her seat again, wide brown eyes meeting Emma’s. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful,” Emma told her, half a smile curling at her mouth despite everything. “You always do.”

Regina laughed – an incredulous noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” She peered back over the shoulder of the seat, dark eyes finding hers. She was biting her lip. “You know that?

“Ask a stupid question,” Emma said sheepishly. Silence settled over them for a minute. Without thinking, Emma cleared her throat again. “Regina,” She said. 

“Mmm?” Regina glanced back over at her, clearly distracted. 

Emma swallowed, fingers twitching clumsily over the armrests of the chair. “I know everything that happened today was...” She wet her lips, breathed in. “But last night was probably the happiest I’ve ever been. Something happened in that lake house and I don’t know what it was but... It meant a lot to me. And when I talked to your mom this morning I wasn’t scared. I didn’t doubt myself.” The blonde lifted her gaze to Regina’s. “You make me strong. So I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you.”

Regina blinked a couple of times, coffee-dark eyes shining in the winter sunlight. “Don’t.” 

“What?”

“Don’t thank me.” The brunette told her, voice soft and genuine. “You were the one who bought me the music and the scarf and when you said those things to me, Emma... Last night was all that for me, too. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect evening.”  
Emma swallowed, ducking her head awkwardly. She couldn’t help the spill of warmth that rushed from her chest to her cheeks. “Almost makes it worth the shit, doesn’t it?” 

“There’s no almost!” Regina smiled – an honest, effortless smile. “That was the first time I’d been _intimate_ with anyone since the divorce. And even before then it was... I just –” She cut herself off, clearly unable to fight the smile stretching over her lips. “It was rather perfect, wasn’t it?” 

“Really _perfect_ ,” Emma agreed, with a lingering smile. 

“Come on,” Regina breathed in, shaking her short dark hair back behind her shoulders and grasping the wheel again. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

So they drove the last few minutes to the Nolan’s house, pulling up neatly in the grave drive. Regina killed the engine and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly wind with a feeling in her chest like hope. As she went around the back to unfasten the safety attachments for the wheelchair and find the ramp, Emma caught a glimpse of her mom coming out the front door, bundled in a pink cardigan and scarf. She’d sent a text earlier, nothing too detailed – _Change of plan. Coming home a day early. Talk later._ She jogged over as Regina hooked one of the bags over the wheelchair handle, another over her shoulder and manoeuvred her down the ramp, wheels crunching the gravel on the drive.

“Hey,” Emma greeted, mustering a smile. 

“Hey,” Mary Margaret echoed. She glanced between Emma and Regina, before reaching out to take one of the bags for them. “Let me. How are you?” She seemed anxious. Clearly, she’d sensed some tension just from Emma’s text. “Was your trip okay?”

Emma glanced up at Regina, windswept and beautiful. They exchanged a tiny smile, and Emma met her mom’s eyes again when she spoke for both of them. “It was an experience.” 

“Right,” Mary Margaret blinked. “Well I’ll take your stuff in.” She paused, before quickly pulling Regina into a hug. Emma stared – the brunette looked startled, but not in a bad way. When she released her, the older woman squeezed her shoulders like she used to do to comfort Emma when she was a kid. “It was nice to see you, Regina.”

“You too,” Regina admitted. 

Once Mary Margaret was inside the house, Regina stepped around the back of the chair to push her down, but Emma stopped her for a second before she went inside. “Hey,” Emma said, motioning with her head for Regina to come face her. Green eyes found brown. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” 

“You know what?” Emma watched attentively as Regina breathed in, shook back her hair and plastered on a bright, convincing smile. “I actually think I am.”

“You’re strong.” Emma reminded her. 

“Thanks to you.” She leaned down, cold hands covering Emma’s on the armrests of the wheelchair, warm lips meeting hers and sealing into a short, sweet kiss. “You’ve been amazing.” Regina paused. “You _are_ amazing.” 

Emma smiled up at her, squinting through the blonde hair blowing about her face in the frosty wind. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”  
“Tomorrow,” Regina agreed. 

-0-

Regina had just finished unpacking when Henry’s text buzzed in. 

There was more to do than necessary thanks to their early departure, but she was oddly thankful. It made her calm, in a strange way, folding clothes she hadn’t worn and putting them back where they belonged, tidying her make up on her bedroom vanity. She was still wearing Emma’s red sweater, she realised – she could return it whenever, she supposed. She already had a couple of the blonde’s shirts in her top drawer. 

She sat down on the edge of her bed, finding her phone and opening the message. Regina scanned the text beside Henry’s grinning contact picture on screen: _Hi mom, nearly home. I’ll be there in five minutes_. A breath of relief left her lips. 

Regina tapped out a quick reply before clicking her phone shut and setting it back down. She was glad Henry was coming home today rather than tomorrow – she wasn’t sure she’d be able to spend tonight alone. 

The wound was still raw – every time she saw her mother, it seemed to open up a dozen scars she didn’t know she still had – but if there was anything that did the opposite, it was Henry. He could heal her with a smile, calm her with a laugh. _And so can Emma_. The thought was still a little dizzying – that even now, after everything, she had people who she could count on like that. _Real family_. 

Regina hurried down the stairs and zipped on a pair of boots, tugging Emma’s red jumper tighter around herself as she found her keys and made her way out the front door. The air was bracing, leaves on the garden bushes crusted with frost. She wasn’t outside for long before she heard the sound of a car coming down the street, and her heart leapt irrationally in her chest. 

When the taxi cab rounded the corner and she caught a glimpse of bright eyes and red cheeks through the back window, Regina couldn’t help the big smile that broke over her face. 

“Mom!” Henry grinned, throwing open the door and bounding out of the car. His hair was a mess, his stripy scarf was half undone, and his backpack strap was twisted, but he looked happy – he launched himself into her arms without a second word, skinny arms wrapping around her middle like a vice. 

She caught him tight with a laugh and a sigh of relief. When she dropped her nose down into the top of his head, he smelled like Henry and home and his strawberry shampoo. _This_. She squeezed him tight before finally letting him go. _This is what family is supposed to feel like._

“Welcome back,” Regina breathed, brushing his hair off his forehead. He pulled a face, but he didn’t protest too badly. She took the chance to plant a quick kiss above his brow before he could squirm away. Still, he was smiling and babbling on about what his short stay in Portland while she thanked and paid the cab driver. 

“Now,” Regina began, as they walked back up to the house with her arm around his skinny shoulders. “How was it? Tell me everything.”

It wasn’t until later that Henry finally found the courage to ask. 

They’d fallen immediately back into what had quickly become one of their family rituals since the move – after dinner, they both retreated to the couch. Regina took the side nearest the door, curled up with a book, while Henry stretched over the other side, stack of comic books beside him.

Around them was the house they had chosen for their new beginning, but that wasn’t what it was anymore, Regina thought, settling back against the cushions and turning the page of her book. This was their home now, their safe haven tucked away in a sleepy street in Storybrooke, Maine. It felt like respite, and the pictures hanging on the walls were like works of art. The doorframe already had Henry’s latest growth measured in pencil marks.

The room was perfectly quiet except for the rasp of paper as one of them turned a page. The blanket Regina pulled over both of them was soft and nubby, some relic from Henry’s infancy. In the middle of the couch, Regina’s thick socks brushed against Henry’s blue slippers. Her heart was never so impossibly calm as it was then, safe back home, sharing an old blanket with her son, wrapped in her girlfriend’s sweater. 

Just as she predicted, she could almost feel her scars closing up for another day, the way they’d started out by the lake, when Emma told her she was good and made her feel as whole as she did now.

That was when Henry finally asked the question. 

“Mom,” He said, usually chirpy voice turned serious and mature. 

Regina looked up from her book, eyes finding his big earnest ones, staring up at her across the couch. He’d put his comic down, she noticed; it was laying in his lap on top of the blanket, brightly-coloured cover closed. “Yes?” 

Henry looked at her, small face all adult and mature. He paused for a second, seeming to consider what to say. Eventually, his wide eyes found hers and he found his voice. “How come you and Emma came home so soon?” Henry paused, chewing his bottom lip. “You were so excited to go. Did you have a fight?” 

“No,” Regina gently closed her own book on her bookmark. “No, _no_ , sweetheart, we didn’t have a fight.” She paused, glancing down at the blanket in her lap for a moment before meeting her sons eyes again. “Your grandma showed up.”

“Oh.” Henry’s face fell as he took in the new information. Regina held her breath, searching his face. After a few moments, he looked up at her. “Did she make you sad again?”

Something in Regina’s chest collapsed. “Henry –”

“Grandma always makes you sad.” Henry cut her off. “I know she doesn’t mean to but she does.” He was pouting slightly, brow furrowed in thought. “Doesn’t she?” 

Regina swallowed, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She studied her son for a moment, staring over at her, so concerned. His hair was sticking up at the back. She always seemed to underestimate just how mature and understanding Henry could be. So she breathed in and leaned forward to take his small pale hand between hers. “Henry,” Her eyes sought his, voice soft. “Your grandma and I never had the kind of relationship you and I do, and I don’t think we ever will. You know we had problems when I was younger.”

“And when she showed up...” Henry figured, eyes never leaving hers. “It made you sad.”

“Yes,” Regina admitted, swallowing hard. “I wasn’t expecting to see her so suddenly. I wasn’t prepared and... It made me sad.” 

“Oh.” Henry nodded solemnly.

Regina breathed in, drawing his hand closer to her, thumb rubbing soft circles absently on the skin there. “But I’m fine now, sweetheart.” She managed a smile, just to prove it. “Emma was there for me this morning and she made me feel better.”

“Emma made you happy,” Henry repeated. Slowly, a satisfied smile crept over his face. “I knew she was like the saviour in my story.” He said, almost reverently. 

“Yes. She is.” Regina nodded, heart suddenly flooded with so much love for this little boy in front of her. She swallowed, giving his hand a squeeze. “But you make me happy, too.” She paused, trying to find the best way to relate it to him. “Because you’re like the prince.”

-0-

The next morning, Emma woke up back in her own bed in the annex at the end of the garden to pale sunlight streaming through her familiar blue curtains. She moaned, pushing her face back into her pillows and willing herself to go back to sleep. Since she _should_ be in a lake house somewhere in New Hampshire right now, there was no nurses round this morning, and no reason to wake up early. Still. When she opened her eyes, the other side of the bed was empty. 

She sighed into her deserted bedroom. 

Staring up at the ceiling, Emma couldn’t help but feel almost relieved to be back. After everything tat had happened with Cora... Well, she still wasn’t entirely back to normal, and it was nice to be around all her stuff, knowing her family was close by. _There’s a development._ Just a year ago, the idea of talking to her parents made her uncomfortable, let alone Ruby or any of her other friends. 

She wondered how Regina was doing. 

While it was true that first evening in the cabin – their first _night together_ – was one of the most special moments of her life, almost _sacred_ , yesterday was a blur of pretty much every negative emotion she’d ever felt. She couldn’t stop thinking about Regina’s face, the look in her eyes when she’d told her they had to leave. The way her voice sounded so soft and young and unlike her. _It was like she was going out of her way to prove to me that I wasn’t enough_. 

God, that hurt her. More than she thought possible. The thought of Regina in pain was just unthinkable, and the sight of it... She just couldn’t fathom how anyone could make Regina feel that way. It made her want to fight something – or at least just be able to. She sighed again to the empty room. 

Emma knew her words had helped, and the long drive back was cathartic. Hopefully spending a quiet evening in with Henry had been good for her as well. Emma would drop by to check on her and Henry later, and she could make sure. Now that she knew – knew everything – she could throw herself into supporting her. All she wanted was for Regina to see herself the way she saw her... _Well, if Regina could do that for me when I was at my worst, I can goddamn do the same for her._

But first, breakfast. 

Mary Margaret came down to the annex for her meds and stuff, and she didn’t even need to ask whether or not she wanted to come up to the main house to eat with them. It just happened. The garden was freezing when she pushed her up, neat lawn crusted with frost, but inside the house was warm and the smell of pancakes cooking wafted from the kitchen. A small smile appeared on Emma’s lips despite herself. 

“Morning,” She called, letting her mom manoeuvre herself around the door and over to the kitchen table. 

“Morning,” Her dad was standing at the cooker, holding a pan over the heat and humming along under his breath to the folksy old song on the radio. His short hair was still wet from the shower, sheriff’s badge glinting at his belt. Emma twisted to watch her mom smile at the sight of him, going to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before picking up the paper from the counter and taking her own seat at the table. 

“Something smells good,” Emma observed, managing a smile. She raised an eyebrow when he turned around. “Pancakes?”

“Pancakes,” David confirmed, giving the pan a shake. “Plus all the trimmings. We’ve got blueberries, strawberries, raspberries or cheese if you wanted savoury.” 

“Seriously?” Emma grinned across the table at her mom, flicking absently through the paper. “What’s the occasion?”

David turned around, grabbing a couple of plates. “Who needs an occasion?” He slid a pancake from the fryer onto a plate. “Pancake Sunday’s tradition, remember?”

Mary Margaret smiled into her coffee. “What your father means to say is that we’re glad to have you back.” She set her mug – the chipped one that read _number one mom_ , a reluctant mother’s day gift from a seventeen year old Emma – down on the table and looked up at her. “You’re first trip away from home since the accident, and there were no complications.” 

“We’re happy for you, kid,” David finished, piling another pancake onto a plate and twisting it to set on the table. “You want coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee’s good,” Emma nodded, still eyeing her parent suspiciously. She knew there was nothing else going on but still... The three of them sitting at the breakfast table together, bringing back pancake Sunday? Despite everything, it still felt almost too good to be true. But maybe, for what she needed from them today, it was perfect. 

David took her hands free attachment out of the cupboard and started fixing it to a cup. “We’re happy to have you back.” He added. “Even if it is a day early.”

Emma breathed in, steeling herself and staring at her mom’s coffee cup. She knew what was coming. 

“Yeah, what happened with that?” Mary Margaret asked lightly, taking another sip. “I mean, not that we’re not relieved.”

“Um.” Emma swallowed hard, wincing. “Regina’s mom turned up.” 

David slid another couple of pancakes onto a plate and set it down in front of his wife, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. “And what, kicked you out?” He was smiling. 

Emma tried not to sigh. She was sense of openness she was slowly rebuilding with her parents, but Cora wasn’t hers to talk about. Even if she was... Emma shook her head. “There’s a lot of water under the bridge there.” She paused. “We figured it was better to just come back and let her get on with it.”

“That sounds like a smart move.” David nodded. He gave her a second look before pouring out her coffee, with a hesitant look in his blue eyes that told her he understood everything she wasn’t saying.

Mary Margaret took another sip of coffee and closed the paper, setting it down neatly beside her plate. “But I take it you had a good time? Before that, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, smiling gratefully as her dad set her specialised cup of coffee down in front of her. The smell of it warmed her from inside out. “The best.”

“And she liked her birthday presents?” Her mom asked, eyebrow raised. She’d helped her find the scarf, and ordered the music for her when she told her that was what she wanted to get her. 

“Loved them,” Emma admitted. She couldn’t help grinning then. “Everything was perfect.”

Breakfast, somehow, went the same – the food was amazing, and it didn’t seem to matter anymore that she couldn’t do it herself. She and her parents got on so easily, it was almost like the days before the accident, when they’d have a rushed breakfast together before her mom would rush off to the town hall and she and her dad would drive the truck into the station. They laughed. They _talked_. It made her feel oddly light, and gave her the strength to finally ask what she’d been planning to. 

“Hey, Dad,” the Emma began. He was washing up the plates – Mary Margaret was upstairs getting dressed. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.” She paused, fingers twitching awkwardly against the arms of her chair and summoning the courage to glance up at him. “You got a minute?” 

Despite the face she’d put on, she had to admit Cora’s words from the other day had been playing over and over in her head ever since, echoing off the insecurities inside her. _An unemployed thirty two year old who still lives with her parents._ So instead of moping and wallowing in self-loathing like she would have done six months ago, she decided to do something about it. Cora was right, to some extent. That person, who just sat around doing nothing all day, that wasn’t her anymore. That wasn’t who she needed to be for Regina, or for herself. 

“Sure,” David turned off the tap and drew up a chair at the kitchen table. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um,” Emma cleared her throat, trying to figure out how to word it. “It’s more of a question, really.” Her dad nodded earnestly, waiting. His eye were bright and expectant. She breathed in, and just said it – the words came out of her in leaks and starts, but they came out. “If I were to go back to the station... for work...” Emma trailed off, finally meeting his eyes. “How do you think that would go?”

David’s blue eyes widened, lit up with surprise and something else. He stared at her. “You want to go back to work?”

“Maybe not immediately.” Emma clarified. “I mean, I could always start part time and then work my way back up to where I was, if that would be okay. Obviously, I won’t be able to go chasing perps and stuff like I used to but there’s a lot I still can do.” She paused. “And I’d like to. If you think that would be okay.”

“Wow, Emma...” Her dad trailed off, incredulous. A light smile was brushing over his mouth, eyes sparkling with something deeper. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “If you’d take me back.”

“Well I’m sure I can fix something up. The other guys will be fine with it,” He paused, glancing towards the window with his eyes scanning the air, clearly figuring everything out in his head. He must have decided it was fine, because when he turned back to Emma he was smiling genuinely. “To be honest, all your work stuff’s still over there, just kind of waiting for you.”

“Ok,” Emma swallowed. She hadn’t realised it would be so easy. “Wow.”

“I can sort out some of the paperwork for you Monday if you want,” David offered. “You don’t have to start right away, but I can get it fixed up for when you do.”

“No, yeah, of course.” Emma bit back a smile, satisfaction and a buzz of anticipation settling in her chest. _I’m going back_ , she thought, _I’m going back_. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” David assured her, standing back up and picking up her now empty coffee up, taking it to the sink. “Like I said. Everything’s just kind of been waiting for you.”

_Yes_ , Emma thought, despite herself. _Maybe it has._

-0-

Regina was just getting out of the shower when she heard the knock on the door. _Damn it_. That would be Emma, ten minutes earlier than expected. _Damn it_. She winced, hastily pulling on a robe and belting the grey silk tight as she went to push open the bathroom door. “Henry!” Regina called, hearing another knock on the door. “That’s Emma, can you –”

“On it!” Henry shouted back, and she heard the door open, Emma’s voice, the two of them saying hi. 

Regina hung her towel over the rack and took a quick look in the mirror – her hair was dripping wet, face totally bare. _Oh well_. Couldn’t be helped. She frowned at herself, hastily fluffing her wet hair and tugging her robe tighter before stepping barefoot into the hallway and hurrying downstairs. “I’m just –”

“Hi.” Emma’s voice was soft, looking up at her from the hallway with Henry beside her. She was wearing one of her ridiculous woolly bobble hats, tip of her nose red from the cold outside. Regina suddenly felt very self conscious, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a challenging eyebrow. Emma’s face broke into a grin. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

“Shut up,” Regina shot her a warning look, padding down the rest of the stairs and trying to ignore the feeling bubbling up in her chest – it was the same ridiculous, overly sentimental feeling she’d had last night, when she and Henry had both fallen asleep under that blanket on the couch. It was the feeling of home, and real family. She bit her lip, glancing between Emma and her son. “Henry, why don’t you go and pick out a movie? It’s your turn to choose.”

“Sure,” Henry grinned, bright eyes twinkling as he stared between the two of them. “You two are just gonna be gross anyway.”

“We are not _gross_ –” Regina protested, but Emma cut her off.

“I’d run, kid.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Things are about to get _super_ gross.”

“See,” Henry turned back to his mom, shooting her a look. “I actually think it’s really nice.” He explained, matter-of-factly. “I like you being happy.” All at once, the maturity faded from his pale face and he wrinkled his nose. “I just don’t wanna see it.” 

Emma laughed, and Regina folded her arms, watching him run off to the den to find a movie. Once he was gone, Emma turned to her, soft lazy smile curling over her mouth. “Well,” she said. “You can’t argue with that logic.”

“No.” Regina agreed. 

A crackling silence settled over the foyer of the house, tingling with unspoken words and echoes. Regina tugged her robe tighter again, pulling her short wet hair over one shoulder. Emma was still looking at her, not saying anything. Just looking. After a few moments, she spoke up, voice soft and gentle. “How are you?”

Regina shuffled her bare feet on the carpet, nodding slowly before meeting her eyes. “I’m doing better. Really.” She breathed in, taking a step closer. “What you said yesterday was perfect, and Henry helped a lot last night.” She mustered a smile, chest aching slightly at the fact that this woman, this wonderful, special, incredible woman who had been so depressed and full of rage when they’d first met had taken the time to ask whether _she_ was okay. She still wasn’t used to it. “Thank you.”

“You gotta stop thanking me, ‘Gina,” Emma told her softly, smile ghosting over her lips. 

Regina smiled despite herself. “Isn’t that my line?”

“Come on,” Emma motioned with her head. “Let’s go watch that movie.” She turned the wheelchair in the hallway, making for the den. “And afterwards, I’ve got some news to tell you.”

Later, when the movie was over and the credits were rolling and Regina was cuddled into Emma on the couch, everything she'd felt from yesterday just melted away, like frost under the sun. Henry was draped over the other side of the couch, staring at the screen with rapt involvement in his wide eyes, hair a mess. It was a Marvel movie, and he insisted there was an extra scene at the end they had to wait for. Emma had agreed, leaning back against the cushions. Regina's head was tucked into her crook of her neck, breath soft and warm against her skin. She couldn't feel it, but she could see their legs tangled up amidst the cushions.

Yes, Regina thought, remembering how she'd felt with Henry last night. The house had changed, slowly becoming a home with every picture frame and pencil mark and keepsake on the windowsill. It was home, for the two of them, but it was more than that, too. It was more than that because of the red sweater thrown over the back of the chair without any intent of moving. It was more than that because of the album in the CD player, the tall brown boots next to the designer heels and Captain America sneakers in the porch.

That calm feeling settled over her again like dust at the realisation, and for the first time in her life, _family_ and _home_ meant more to Regina than a pretence that needed to be upheld.

As if reading her mind, Emma spoke quietly, resting her head against Regina's. "It was worth it, Regina," Her voice was calm and quiet, green eyes trailing from Regina to Henry to the rolling credits on the TV screen. "It was all worth it."


	26. Sickness and Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, back on schedule – almost. 
> 
> I know this chapter is short and the ending... Well, let’s just say you’re going to have to wait and see. But please bear with me because the next couple of chapters will be a lot more meaty and fulfilling, I promise. 
> 
> I love all of you taking the time to read and support this story!

So the movie finished, and the pale winter afternoon slowly darkened outside the windows, turning orange and pink as the stars began to appear. It was later, after dinner – Regina had insisted Emma stay for some of her homemade soup – that Emma remembered one of the reasons she was there in the first place. 

The three of them had migrated back into the living room: Henry was sitting on the floor doing his homework, occasionally stopping to ask Regina a question. Emma and Regina were piled back onto the couch, the topic of conversation lazily flowing anywhere and everywhere as the evening drew on. A sense of peace filled the Mills house, soft and quiet. 

Emma cleared her throat. Both Regina and her son looked up, Henry climbing around from his position on the carpet to stare at her with wide hazel eyes. “So, I have some pretty exciting news,” Emma announced. Her stomach twisted in anticipation. 

“You got bit by a radioactive spider and now you’re a superhero,” Henry guessed, dead serious. He was fiddling with his pencil, spinning it over and over in his fingers. 

“Not yet, kid.” Emma shook her head, barely containing her smile when his face fell. Heart thumping, she drew a deep breath and turned back to Regina. Lifting her eyes up to the brunette’s, she finally said it. “I’m going back to work.”

Regina’s mouth fell open, dark eyes bright. Slowly, softly, an incredulous smile ghosted over her lips, brow creasing in shock. Regina stared at her. “Really?”

“I’m starting part time next month and we’ll see how it goes,” Emma confirmed. 

“Emma!” Regina exclaimed, dazzling white grin breaking over her face at the blonde’s sheepish smile. She couldn’t help it – she leaned forward across the sofa cushions and wound her arms around Emma’s neck, squeezing her into a tight hug. It only lasted a moment – Regina could feel the blonde’s heart beating fast through her shirt, chin tucked over her shoulder. She untangled herself after a few seconds, sitting back and taking one of Emma’s hands between her own. 

“I am _so_ proud you.” Regina told her, rich voice laced with sincerity, coffee-dark eyes shining at her. Emma swallowed hard, staring back at Regina’s face, olive skin glowing in the soft yellow light from the lamp. Her bright dark eyes were so full of pride, never leaving hers. _She means it._

“What are you gonna do?” Henry piped suddenly. Both women turned to look at him, staring at Emma with wide eyes. He was still sitting on the plush carpet, but he’d twisted around to face them, cross-legged and curious. His skinny shoulders shrugged. “For a job, I mean.”

“You didn’t know?” Emma shot a grin over the cushions at Regina before turning and raising her eyebrows dramatically towards the kid. “I was the town’s deputy sheriff for three years –”

“You’re a cop?” Henry’s mouth hung open. He turned to his mother, practically bouncing on the floor. “Mom! You didn’t tell me Emma’s a cop!” He stared back to Emma, small pale face suddenly turning serious and intense as he questioned her. “Do you fight bad guys?” 

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, clearly fighting a laugh. Her green eyes darted up to meet Regina’s, sparkling – the brunette was looking at her with shining eyes and a barely bitten-back smile. She could feel it, but from the shape of the blankets she was sure their feet were touching under the coverlet. She glanced back down at Henry, eyebrows raised. “Except we live in Storybrooke, so the bad guys are mostly just kids with spray cans.” 

Henry considered that for a minute, before fixing Emma with a look so adult and serious and so quintessentially _Regina_ that Emma had to bite back a laugh. “You’re definitely a superhero.” He decided, and then turned to shoot his mom a reassuring, toothy grin. “Don’t worry, Mom. You are too.”

“Right,” Regina agreed, tilting her head against her manicured hand and looking at him with so much love and happiness sparkling in her eyes, written clearly across her face that Emma’s chest flooded with a fresh wave of warmth. She still wasn’t used to it, this warm quiet feeling of home and family. This comforting ache insider her, where once there was nothing. 

“Which makes me some kind of future superhero by genetics.” Henry declared, nodding knowingly when Regina raised a questioning eyebrow at him. 

Emma caught her girlfriend’s eye across the couch, seeing the laughter bubbling up inside her. She fought the urge to grin. Instead she turned back to Henry, brows drawing together slightly, head tilting to the side. “I’m not exactly sure that’s how it works –”

“Don’t argue with science.” Henry told her simply, with a superior shake of his head. “Science always wins.”

-0-

So February drew on, slowly and softly. The worst of winter raged on, cold winds sweeping Storybrooke’s sleepy grey streets and shaking the bare branches of the trees outside her window. Spring remained just out of reach. 

Regina’s actual birthday passed by, a small and impossibly special affair. Henry was allowed to stay up while Emma and a few friends came over for drinks, the CD Emma had given her at the lake house playing in the background. Henry gave her a candle Robin had helped him buy, and a picture frame he’d made at school. It took pride of place on mantelpiece, soon holding a photo Kathryn had taken that night – Regina was sitting on Emma’s knee in the wheelchair, cheeks flushed slightly from the wine, and Henry was attempting to push them, hazel eyes bright and wide, grinning over the top of the chair. Emma’s face in that picture was covered with the biggest, brightest grin, dimpling her cheeks and lighting up her eyes – the kind that featured in the pictures on Mary Margaret’s windowsill, from before the accident. It still gave Regina a warm, proud feeling when she saw it. 

Emma stayed late that night, after everyone left, and they read Henry his story together. Somehow, they’d woken up the next morning tangled together in Regina’s bed while the winter sunlight crept in through the crack in the curtains. 

That had slowly started happening more and more, without either of them ever having to think about it. It was simple, and easy, and before they knew it scarcely a day went by without seeing each other. A small collection of Emma’s shirts moved into the top drawer beside Regina’s bed, one by one, and Regina always had a spare lipstick or pair of gloves waiting for her in Emma’s annex. 

Regina and her mom were working at the town hall the day the papers came through to confirm Emma’s new contract – it was grey and freezing outside: Emma had a bad cold, and a plan to meet Ruby at Granny’s for a coffee or hot cocoa after her shift. She was just wheeling herself out through the main house when her dad’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

“Hey, Emma,” David called, jogging up behind her in the foyer. Emma clumsily pushed down on the right button, turning herself around and meeting his eyes. He was clearly on his way to work, sheriff’s badge clipped to his jeans belt, holster fixed on. “You got a sec to look over some papers before you go out? For the station.” His blue eyes were bright. “I can put them through in a minute and once that’s done then we can pick a start date and see how it goes.”

“Yeah, sure.” Emma nodded, and then winced. Her throat was kind of sore from coughing – breathing clearly, especially in the cold weather, wasn’t the easiest for her anymore and despite the pills she’d been taking with breakfast, her cold was still kind of kicking her ass. “That’s great.”

“Right.” David motioned with his head for her to follow her, leading her over to the office. Her wheelchair whirred over the hardwood floors, going over to the desk beside him. It was mostly covered in her mom’s junk and town stuff – the sight of Regina’s familiar neat handwriting on a couple of the mayoral documents put a smile on Emma’s face. 

Her dad leaned across the desk to pick up a thin stack of paper, crookedly stapled in the corner, picking up a pen from her mom’s organiser. “Right.” He flipped it open in front of them. “So this is a part time contract until we figure out when or if you want to get your hours back up.” 

“Cool,” Emma nodded, slightly breathless, eyes scanning the paper. She vaguely remembered flicking through a similar document before she first started officially at the station, back when she didn’t need anyone to sign for her. “It looks good to me.”

“Well, it’s all fixed anyway,” David nodded, shooting her another sideways glance. His brow creased a little bit. “Should I turn the heat down?”

“What?”

“You’re sweating.” He explained. 

“I’m –” Emma frowned. Was she? She thought it was cold. “Oh.” She paused. “Well, um, I’m going for a coffee with Ruby in a minute anyway, so you can leave it on.”

“Ok,” David said. He didn’t look convinced. Still, he shook his head and turned back to the paperwork. “So, these are your workplace agreements. They’re basically the same as they were before except now there’s this added bit that deals with your condition, which needs to...” He frowned at the page. “It just needs another signature. I’ve put your mom down as your emergency contact, since whatever happens at work I’ll probably be there with you.” He glanced back up at her. “I can put Regina too, if you want?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Emma coughed, clearing her throat afterwards and making herself focus back down at the forms. “She’s still on the hospital calling list.” 

“Right,” David agreed, fishing his phone out of his jeans pocket and frowning at it, scrolling down his contacts to find Regina’s number and copying it out in spidery biro. “I think that’s all.” 

“So we’re all good?” Emma asked, raising her eyebrows and watching him check the last couple of boxes on the form. “Once that goes through?” 

“We’re all good.” David looked up, meeting his daughters eye with a crooked grin. “So I’ll take this in when I go to work in a sec.” Something wavered behind his eyes as he looked at her, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Emma assured him. “I’m fine now. I've got more of that cold stuff Mom bought, I can take that if I need to.” She paused, clearing her throat again. “So I told Ruby I’d meet her there...”

“Okay,” David didn’t look convinced, but he mustered a smile and nodded anyway. “Well just call if you need anything.”

"I will."

"And Emma?" David called. Emma glanced back over her shoulder at him, trying to ignore the crease of concern in his brow and the wariness in his eyes. "Don't push yourself. I know you're better..." He trailed off, seemingly struggling to find the words. "I know you're better _mentally_ now, kid, but you know you're not -"

“I'm fine,” Emma assured him, if only for his sake. It was just a cold, after all. 

Ruby, however, had other ideas. 

“Jesus Christ, Emma,” Ruby said, pausing when she saw her. They met on the corner outside Granny’s, Ruby standing waiting for her bundled tight into an oversized fluffy coat, wind stirring through her hair. Her mouth was hung slightly open at the sight of her, big eyes staring. “Are you sure you’re okay to be out? Maybe you'd be better off getting some rest.”

“Thanks a lot,” Emma joked, slightly disheartened by Ruby’s analysis of her. “But I’m fine,” she insisted, despite how high and thin her voice sounded. “I’ve had enough rest to last my entire life.”

“Right,” Ruby narrowed her concerned eyes, scanning her for a second before breathing in and mustering a smile before she moved around to take the handles of her friend’s wheelchair, heading through the deserted outside tables to the door of the diner. “Well, come on then. Guess there’s no point making it worse standing around here.”

However stubborn she was, Emma had to admit a wave of relief washed over her when Ruby pushed her into the warmth of the café. The air inside was hot and smelled of coffee: there were only a few patrons sitting around this time of day – the elderly man reading a newspaper with his tea in the window booth, the couple having lunch by the jukebox, cutlery clinking against their dainty plates. 

Ruby manoeuvred Emma around the corner to their usual table, sliding around into her own seat and hastily stripping off her coat. There were already two steaming coffee cups sitting on the gleaming table top. Ruby nodded at them in acknowledgement, tugging off her gloves one by one. “I got your usual.” 

“Thanks.” Emma managed a grateful smile. 

“It’s no problem.” Ruby matched her smile, although there was clearly something else going on behind her eyes. After a second though, the smile spread into an earnest white grin. “What with you getting back on the proverbial horse and everything we gotta treasure these days doing nothing.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “So you heard about that.”

“I think everyone’s heard about that,” Ruby countered, taking her coffee cup between her hands. “Seriously, Emma. We’re proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiled despite herself, glancing down for a second. She and Ruby might be back on track to the place they used to be, but there were still these odd moments of awkwardness before and after bursts of conversation – it wasn’t quite seamless again. Not yet. She lifted her gaze back to Ruby’s, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “But you’ve got all kinds of stuff going on with you too! I mean, you and Dorothy, _getting serious_...” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s pretty exciting.”

“Yeah,” Ruby admitted, glancing down into her lap. Emma didn’t miss the little smile playing over her lips or the faint hint of colour in her cheeks. It made her smile – it was nice to see her friend so happy, even if she’d missed most of the reason why. Ruby took a sip of coffee, eyes meeting hers over the cup. “Scary.”

“Tell me about it.” Emma joked. 

“Look at the two of us,” Ruby shook her head, taking a sip of coffee. She raised her eyebrows. “Almost like we’re grown ups.”

“Yeah,” Emma swallowed, annoying dry cough feeling tickling in the back of her throat. “Who’d have thought?”

Ruby opened her mouth to say something else, but she was cut off by a sudden hacking cough tearing out from Emma’s throat. Emma winced, swallowing hard and trying to clear her throat, and avoiding Ruby’s eye – she could feel her old friend staring at her, practically see the concern written all over her face. 

“Emma –”

“I’m fine,” Emma insisted, staring out the steamy window at the wintery street outside. A car rushed by, leaving a trail of smoke in it's wake. 

“No you’re not,” Ruby shook her head, trying to catch her eye. Her voice was high and tinged with worry. “Emma, you really shouldn’t be _out_ , especially now. Look at you. If you want me to take you home –”

“I don’t!” Emma’s voice rose with the heat in her cheeks, cracking like a whip. She paused afterwards, feeling her heart thumping harder and harder. She stared down at the table top for a second – she could feel eyes on her. This was where she’d freaked out last time. She sighed. “Sorry, Ruby, really, I – I am. Sorry.” Emma paused, breathing in slowly and meeting Ruby’s eyes. “It’s just that I’ve spent so much time sitting at home on my own, wallowing in _misery_ – I can’t do that again. I can’t go back to that.” 

“Emma...” Ruby softened, wide eyes bright and sympathetic as they met hers over the table. “Going home right now isn't gonna be... _Reverting_.” She gave her a look. “It’ll be healthy.” 

“I know.” Emma assured her. “I know that, I do, I just...”

It was true. Maybe she did feel like shit right now, but that was exactly why she couldn’t just cancel all her plans and sit at home all day. For a year and a half that was _all she did_. And look how that turned out – Emma couldn’t go back to being the way she was before, defeatist, empty, depressed. She _knew_ it was stupid: staying in bed a little longer while her cold passed wasn’t exactly going to turn her back into the depressed shell of a woman that she had been. But she couldn’t help feeling like that was how that shell of a woman would have responded. 

Yeah, it was a bit too far. Yeah, it was completely stupid. But she just _couldn’t_. 

Emma sighed.

Either way, her sudden honesty seemed to settle it for a while, because Ruby finally dropped it, talk turning back to Dorothy and Regina and work and their plans for the future. Outside, the winter sky darkened and faded as Emma found herself laughing and sincerely discussing everything and nothing with... Her friend. So they might have some awkward moments, there might still be a _lot_ of water under the bridge, but they were friends again. _And it's nice._

Until, just as Emma was thinking of making a move – and probably calling her mom to pick her up in the minivan on her way back from the town hall, since it was dark and cold and she felt terrible enough as it was – she coughed. And then coughed harder. Her chest felt weird - weird as it had felt last night, lying awake and trying to convince herself nothing was wrong. _Just a cold. Just a cold._

A rush of heat flooded Emma's face, tight and prickly. She sighed, glancing down at the lap of her jeans before lifting her gaze back up to Ruby. “Don’t.” 

Ruby ignored her. “Emma, seriously, are you okay?” There was something almost wary in her friend’s big green eyes as they tracked over her, arching brows knitted in concern. “You look a little...” 

“I’m fine.” Emma snapped. Or tried to snap – instead, her voice faltered with her breath, barely audible. All of a sudden, the diner air, which had previously seemed so warm and cosy, was stifling – way too thick. It felt like it was pressing in on her, and the coffee smell reeked like hell. She could feel her heart pounding. 

Ruby’s wary green eyes flickered over her once, twice. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I –” Whatever Emma had been about to say next was lost in the sudden fit of coughing – ugly dry coughs that seemed to wrack her whole body, scraping her throat. Ruby's panicked face blurred as her eyes watered. She was breathless when she stopped – the warm pressing diner was spinning around her. Emma squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to make it stop.

“Oh my god – Emma!” She could feel Ruby’s hand on her back, holding her tissue for her, voice high and wild with panic. Her cheeks flushed with heat, prickling, crawling. Jagged breath stuck in her throat, snared in her lungs. She could feel people staring – a waitress ran over, heels clicking on the floor. When she opened her eyes there was blood on the tissue. “We need to call someone. Your mom, or the hospital, or - Where’s your phone?” 

“My – my bag,” Emma managed, head dropping forward. Her heart was pounding, faster and faster. She could feel the sweat sticking to her forehead. She closed her eyes, and waited for it to be over.

-0-

"Mom?" Henry asked, padding out of the bathroom and over to his bedroom door, sleepy curiosity on his face. He was wearing his blue Captain America pyjamas and his hair was a mess – it put a smile on Regina's face as she herded him down the hall to his bedroom. "Do you think we can get cocoa with Emma tomorrow?" He yawned. "After school I mean."

"I think it's a possibility," Regina allowed. It was almost becoming a tradition, however much she pretended to complain about Emma's sweet tooth having a bad influence on her son. "Come on." She opened his bedroom door, the carved _Henry's room_ sign clacking against the wood as they walked through. "Bedtime."

It had been a good day – she and Mary Margaret were making real progress with the budgets... and with each other. There was a nice energy there, something Regina never would have thought possible from her first meeting with Emma's manically upbeat mother. It was nice. A new, different kind of friendship that wasn't at all unwelcome. In some strange way, it reminded her of everything she'd wished her mother would have been when she was younger. A faint smile appeared on her lips at the thought.

"I'm not tired," Henry protested, although he pulled back the cover of his duvet and climbed into bed without much fuss. He waited a second before flopping down against the pillows, as if she was suddenly going to change her mind. "Can't I just stay up for another –"

"Bedtime now, Henry." Regina told him firmly, eyes purposefully finding his. She sat down on the side of his bed, slipper-clad feet skimming the carpet. Careful hands drew back the coverlet, tucking him in and smoothing it down around him. On the nightstand, his space lamp cast a soft warm glow dancing against the walls. "Come on."

"But I'm not tired," Henry repeated, even as another yawn came over him. He turned his head against the pillow, eyes wide. "Please, Mom?"

"Tell you what," Regina smiled, warmth flooding her chest as she reached out to brush the loose brown hair off Henry's pale forehead. "How about I let you stay up just long enough for a story from your book, hmm?" She leaned forward, catching his eye and raising an eyebrow.

After a moment of careful consideration, Henry nodded. "Okay." He said, high voice serious and satisfied. "I'll take it."

Repressing a laugh, Regina reached for the thick storybook resting on his nightstand by her phone and drew it into her lap. It was heavy - _God knows how expensive it was_. Still, when she tried to tell Emma is was too much she'd been ignored. The blonde had been adamant: his first Christmas in Storybrooke had to be special, she said. _And it was_. Regina smiled, flipping it open and slowly turning the pages. "What one will it be tonight?"

"The one with the saviour and the queen again," Henry decided, settling back against his pillows and waiting. Though he denied it in the day, the small stuffed bird she'd given him when he was a baby still nestled under the blankets with him - she could see the shape of it under the cover.

Regina tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and scanned the beautifully embossed pages until she found Henry's favourite story. "Once upon a time," She began, words as familiar to her as anything by now. She opened her mouth to carry on, and that was when her phone rang – buzzing loudly on the top of her son's nightstand.

Regina felt her brows draw into a frown. She glanced at Henry's alarm clock. _Who the hell is calling this late?_ Maybe it was Mary Margaret - maybe she'd left something at the office again. "Sorry, Henry, this will only take a moment," She breathed in, quickly picking up the phone and swiping answer. "Hello?"

"Regina Mills?" The voice on the other end of the phone asked, clean, clipped, clinical.

"Yes," Her heart dropped. Regina stood up sharply, crossing her arm tight over her chest and taking a few steps across the plush blue rug away from her son. There was a bad feeling in her stomach. Her mouth was dry. "Who is this?" Regina demanded.

"This is the hospital," The voice informed her, crisp and clean, before saying the two words she'd hoped never to hear from this sort of call. "It's Emma."


	27. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging like that! I’m definitely getting worse with these cliffhangers. 
> 
> But anyway, here we are. Hopefully this answers all of your questions. And no, I physically cannot resist the Snow Queen feels. This chapter focuses a lot on Regina, but next up is a more Emma centric one, so you'll just have to hold out. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all of your kind words and support (and patience), it means the world to me!

Regina couldn’t think.

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, her head was spinning, her mouth was dry. Vaguely, she could remember calling Kathryn and waiting with Henry until she showed up, but she couldn’t seem to recall any of the drive to the hospital, or how she ended up running down too-clean corridors under glaring fluorescent lights until she was completely breathless. 

They told her on the phone where she needed to go, they said – _they said_ , she just couldn’t think. Down another corridor. Through a hallway. It all looked the same. She couldn’t think and she couldn’t breathe, and Emma was somewhere and something was wrong and she wasn’t there and there was nothing she could do and - 

Regina somehow managed to turn a corner the right way, half-undone trench coat flapping against her slacks. She’d gotten dressed after the call, somehow. Her fingers shook so hard she'd struggled to button up her shirt. She didn’t really remember. Her heart was thumping, pounding a mad tattoo against the inside of her chest. She felt dizzy. The bright white lights overhead and the sharp clinical smell of cleaning products and lingering sickness weren’t helping. _God. God._

Somehow, she found her way to a reception. Her hand was nervously twisting the material of her shirt over her stomach. Through another set of double doors, there was a mostly deserted waiting area, and a woman sitting behind a desk clicking away at a computer. Regina stumbled to a stop – literally stumbled. She was wearing flats, but it was like she was in a bad dream and her body couldn’t move properly. 

Regina grasped the desk to steady herself, struggling to pull coherent words out of thin air as the receptionist glanced up at her. “This is...” Regina swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, trying to think back to what they said on the phone. “Is this the – green ward – I –”

“This is the green ward, ma’am.” The receptionist confirmed. She was wearing glasses. She was so calm. How could she be so calm? “Are you visiting family? Who are you here for?” 

“Emma,” Regina managed, breathless. It was all she could think, the name running through her mind over and over again. Suddenly she felt like she was about to cry. “Emma Swan.”

“Ah.” The woman’s face fell, lips pinching into a thin line. “And are you family?”

Regina’s heart plummeted into her stomach like lead through water. “No,” She heard herself saying, voice distant and faraway. “No, I’m –” She faltered, swallowing again. She blinked hard, trying to clear the tears gathering in her eyes so she could see more clearly – there was a door behind the corner from the receptionists desk, around the corner. She couldn’t quite make out the patients name written on the board there – was that where – could that be... 

“Ma’am, I’m afraid nobody but immediate family –”

“She was the carer, let her in.”

Regina stared hopelessly down the corridor – Mary Margaret Nolan was standing outside the farthest door on the left, staring down at them. A rush of relief washed over her. She felt like a lost child who’d just found their mother. For some reason that made her want to cry even more. 

Mary Margaret jogged down the hall towards them, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her shoes clacked against the floor. Her short dark hair was a mess, and there were dark circles around her green eyes. Her pale face was red and puffy, as if she’d just been crying.  
When she drew to a stop, Regina fought the sudden urge to throw herself into a tight hug. She was so lost in staring at the ward and staring at Mary Margaret she barely even registered the receptionist’s apologetic voice rising. 

“Mrs Nolan, I am afraid I can’t allow -”

“I am sorry miss, but my daughter is in _serious_ emotional and physical turmoil right now!” Regina snapped back to reality, turning to stare at Mary Margaret in shock: the older woman was staring the receptionist down with steel in her red-rimmed eyes, usually soft voice strong and unwavering. Fierce. Her pale hands gripped the desk tight. “If you refuse to let her see her _girlfriend_ , the _one_ ray of hope left in her life, I _promise_ you will be looking for another job by the end of the week! So as your mayor and a fellow _human being_ I am _telling you_ that you are going to let that woman in!”

“I –” The receptionist faltered, staring between them. “Go now, before anyone sees.”

Mary Margret nodded sharply, shoes clicking against the polished linoleum floor as she started back towards the room. Regina tried to move but she couldn’t think and nothing was working properly – Mary Margaret must have sensed her struggle, because before she could say anything her hand was firm and warm on Regina’s back, guiding her down the corridor.

Mary Margaret stopped by the door whose board read _Emma Swan, C4 SCI_ in messy blue pen. It made Regina think of the sign on Henry’s door that said _Henry’s room_. She felt the other woman’s hand firm on her back again as she pulled the door open, guiding her inside. 

Tentatively, as if in a dream, Regina took a step inside, having to remind herself to breathe. Inside, David Nolan, wearing jeans, a pyjama shirt and a Carhatt jacket, was standing in the corner talking in a low voice to a nurse in green scrubs. His eyes were red, and he kept clearing his throat and swallowing. 

Regina took another step. 

There was a window set deep in one wall, with a complete view of the moonlit car park. There were more whiteboards on the walls, covered in words she didn’t understand. There were machines too, standing like monstrous robots beside the chair, threatening creatures with wires and tubes and buttons she didn’t want to understand. And there was a bed. And there was...

“ _Emma_ ,” Regina breathed. 

Underneath a thick white blanket, Emma was laying in the bed, propped up with pillows. Her pale skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. A few strands of messy blonde hair fell from the pillows and stuck to her face. There were dark circles under her eyes. Lying there, under the hospital blanket, she looked impossibly small and inconsequential. Despite all that, those green eyes lifted up to meet hers across the room, and a ghost of that _stupid_ beautiful goofy half-smile brushed over her lips for a second. “Hi.” Her voice was small and hoarse, but it was still so _Emma_... That was what did it. That was what broke her trance. 

In an instant she was rushing to the bedside, stumbling again in her haste to be closer. Regina blinked, staring down at her, trying to piece it all together in her head. Without thinking, she reached for one of Emma’s hands, taking it between her own and squeezing. She wondered if she could feel it. 

“Emma,” Regina tried her best to keep her voice calm and level for Emma, despite how hard her heart was beating. She forced herself to take a breath, thumb absently drawing circles on Emma’s limp palm. “What happened? What –” _I don’t even know what I want to say_. What could she say?

Thankfully, Emma knew her better than she did. The blonde turned her head weakly to the side against the pillow, green eyes finding brown. “Turns out that cold I had,” Emma winced. “Slightly worse than that.”

“Slightly!” Regina repeated, incredulous. She squeezed Emma’s hand again, more for herself than anything else. “What...” She trailed off, releasing Emma’s hand and whirling back around to face David and Mary Margaret and the nurse. “What –”

“Pneumonia.” The nurse explained. 

Regina felt it like a blow to the chest. “ _What?_ ” She stared from the nurse to Emma’s parents – Mary Margaret was standing beside David now, leaning against him. “How?” Both of them had fallen quiet: apparently they’d had this conversation before. “I thought she was getting back to normal, I thought she was stable!” Regina snapped. _God, God_. She was pacing the room, hand jumping to her forehead.

“She was.” The nurse said softly, taking pause. “As stable as she’s ever going to be.” She turned her eyes to Regina. “Frankly, the risk of such an infection for somebody with her level of paralysis is considerably higher than it would be for you or me. It’s always a danger. It’s the middle of winter. Prolonged exposure to the cold with mucus build up and poor exhalation could very easily cause a respiratory infection for somebody with the severity of her condition.”

“But...” Regina trailed off, dark eyes darting from David to Mary Margaret to the nurse. She was getting the hopeless feeling again, the floating-lost-at-sea feeling. “She’ll be alright? She’s going to be alright?” 

“Absolutely.” The nurse confirmed. “It’s just best we keep an eye on her for a while.” 

Regina’s heart collapsed in relief. She nodded, trying to think of something to say. There was nothing. 

“She was going back to work,” Mary Margaret said thinly, apparently to no one. Regina stared at her. “She was going back to _work_.”

“And she’ll still be able to,” The nurse assured her. “Just... Once we’re sure she’s ok.” 

At another painful half-coughing noise from the bed, the four of them spun around almost in unison. “Emma?” The nurse’s voice was strong and calm, leaning over the bed like a hunter poised to take action. “Emma, are you okay? Do you need the ventilator again?” 

Weakly, Emma shook her head. 

Regina sighed, turning away from the bed, hand flying to her stomach. She just couldn’t look anymore. Her fingers twisted in the material of her shirt. She swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say, some way to fake control and pretend she didn’t feel so helpless. Clearing her throat, she turned back to the nurse. “So how long is she going to have to stay in here?” Regina asked, forcing her voice to stay level and hard. 

“We’re going to have to keep her in for a few more days, I’m afraid.” The woman told her. “Infection in people with spinal injuries can be serious. I’m sure it’s not in Emma’s case, but best just to make sure.” She gave Regina a small smile, entirely too sympathetic and pitying for Regina’s taste. 

Regina brushed a flyaway strand of hair back from her face, consciously crossing her arms over her chest. “And after?” She glanced at Mary Margaret and David, who had obviously heard all this before. “What happens after? Is there anything I – is there anything _we_ can do to prevent something like this happening again?”  
“  
I’d suggest more regular visits.” The nurse nodded. “Or we can have someone come out and suction clean her lungs regularly –”

“That does not sound like fun.” Emma put in, brow twisted in disgust. 

“Neither does suffocating,” The woman countered. 

“Touché,” Emma managed, before she winced and those horrible dry coughing noises started up again. “Shit – I –” She was breathing so shallow and fast, like she’d just done a hard workout. “I think I want that ventilator now –”

The nurse nodded, springing straight into action mode and unhooking one of the contraptions from the wall, and Regina turned and left the room. The door swung shut behind her. 

Out in the hallway, the fluorescent lights were bright white as ever, glaring down at her and bouncing off the over-polished floors. There was a noticeboard on the opposite wall, papered with flyers depicting virus symptoms and cats in trees _hanging in there_. Regina sighed, letting her head fall back against the wall. 

There was nobody else around – down the corridor there was a faint echo of someone tapping away at a computer, some machine beeping and someone else’s shoes clicking on the floor, but aside from that the corridor was deadly silent. There was a strange heavy energy in the air, and it smelled too sharply clean and antiseptic, something she’d always hated about hospitals. 

Regina swallowed, arms inadvertently wrapping around herself. _God_. There was a strange buzzing feeling in her chest, though whether that was from Emma or the lack of sleep or worry about Henry or how weak and useless she felt right now she couldn’t say. 

“Damn it.” Regina swore softly to herself, pushing off from the wall and taking a few uncertain steps over the floor.

“What?”

She spun around, shocked, to find Mary Margaret gently closing the room door behind her. The mayor, still bundled in her pink cardigan, took a few soft steps towards her, arms folded. “Hey,” She greeted, voice soft and small. She paused, before her green eyes flicked up to meet Regina’s. “You okay?”

“No,” Regina admitted, staring warily at Emma’s mother. She paused, waiting for her to say something else but she never did. Instead, the silence festered between them, growing too loud and too heavy for her to take any more. “I couldn’t be in there for – that. Not when there’s nothing I can do, not when...” She turned away slightly, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a minute and willing herself not to cry. “Seeing her like that, when I know I cant help...” She breathed in sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s a bit of a sharp reality check, that’s all.”

“Regina...” Mary Margaret tried. 

“And this is my –” Regina cut herself off and sighed. “At the lake house, when my mother arrived, Emma insisted on taking me for a walk through the woods. It was snowing. She had her jacket on but – I should have made sure she was wearing a scarf or – or something, I wasn’t thinking...”

“Regina, this is not your fault.” Mary Margaret’s ordinarily soft voice was sharp and somehow protective. 

“But...” Regina faltered. “If I hadn’t...”

“Regina.” Mary Margaret repeated. Regina shook her head, fighting back tears. 

Before she could say anything else, the older woman had stepped forward and pulled Regina into the tightest, fiercest hug she could remember. Her arms wrapped so tight around her she couldn’t even think of letting go – Mary Margaret’s hold was firm and warm and comforting, and when Regina finally let herself rest her head against her it felt how she imagined it must feel to have a mother who loved you.

“Thank you,” Regina whispered, words half muffled by the mayor’s shoulder. 

“No, Regina,” Mary Margaret breath a long and shaky breath. When she drew back, her pale warm hands found Regina’s and squeezed tight. There were tears in her eyes. “ _Thank you._ ” She paused, clearly fighting off her own emotion. “You have done more for this family than anyone. You’ve helped Emma _and_ David and I more than you can imagine.” Her voice quivered, but when she shook off the tears in her eyes and smiled at her, it was genuine. “You know how you can help? Just by going back in there and showing her what you’re made of.”

-0-

Emma dropped her head back against the over-fluffed pillow and stared at the ceiling, waiting for her breath to slow back down. 

_God_. 

Underneath her, the hospital mattress was firm and unyielding – it was the kind that could be operated to sit up or lie down at various angles from a little remote attached to the rail, kind of similar to her bed at home, except the sheets were white and tight and harsh and stank of cleaning product. Beside her, a machine was beeping monotonously, and the fluorescent white lights above her were starting to give her headache. The ache in her chest was starting to dissipate, and her breath was back to normal (as normal as it could be) thanks to the ventilator and the meds pumping through her system. 

Thankfully, her last nurse’s shift had ended after the ventilator incident, so hopefully she’d get August or someone next time she needed anyone. Her mom had left too, going after Regina when she’d run out. _God_. That started up a whole new pounding in her head and her chest that had nothing to do with her stupid fucking traitor body. 

When she’d showed up, bundled in mismatched clothes, shirt done up wrong, face clean of make up and torn up with pain, wide brown eyes shining and lost, Emma was pretty sure she understood those guys on TV that think they saw angel after they got hit by a truck or something. 

And then she’d left as soon as Emma started hacking up phlegm again. 

Emma drew a deep breath in and released it slowly, the way her nurse had told her would help. She felt like a wreck already, but seeing Regina run out like that just made her... God, she didn’t know. Part of her was still touched that she was affected that much by her, but another part of her _wished_ she didn’t have to be. Her throat hurt. 

“You okay, kid?” David asked, and his rough voice was very close to breaking.  
Emma summoned the strength to breathe in again and nod once, twice, as her dad approached. “Yeah.” She swallowed hard and nodded. “Just tired, I guess.” 

“Right,” He nodded. “Right –”

They were interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open and squeaking on its hinges. 

Both Emma and David stared over at the doorway as Regina took a tentative step inside, peering around the edge of the door. She looked tired, dark wave of hair falling against her face as she came inside, flat shoes murmuring softly against the floor. “Hey,” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft and unsure. “How are you doing?”

“That seems to be the question of the night,” Emma joked half-heartedly. When Regina walked further into the room to stand at the end of her bed, looking so small and vulnerable, she breathed in and paused. “I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“Of course.” Regina nodded. 

A soft silence fell over the sterile white hospital room, and Emma found herself once again unable to tear her eyes from the brunette at the end of her bed. Messy clothes and hair, dark circles under big red-rimmed eyes, and maybe it was the medication but she was pretty sure she’d never looked more beautiful. Ironic, really. Of all the things Emma could have imagined last time she was lying in this godforsaken hospital, drugs pumping through her veins, bruised and bloodied with bits of gravel in her hair, it was never this. After the accident they hadn't even been sure she'd live. Now... 

David cleared his throat, glancing between the two of them. “I’ll give you a moment,” He said softly, before turning to the door and joining his wife in the hallway. 

The silence persisted for a long time after the door clicked shut.

Regina wandered over from the end of the bed around the side, to the shiny blue armchair at her bedside, moving the stack of magazines Mary Margaret had brought in from the car to sit beside the water jug on the little plastic table. Emma watched as the brunette busied herself with lining the magazines up straight, adjusting the jug and the empty coffee cups on the table, brown eyes wide and faraway. She kept finding new things to organise, finally turning her eyes down into her lap and picking imaginary lint off her slacks. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights shone on her hair and cast strange shadows over her face. 

After what felt like years, Regina finally broke and did something Emma had never really seen her do. Not when she’d said goodbye to Henry, not at the lake house when she’d talked about her mother. The closest she’d come was the few tears at the Christmas fair, head on Emma’s shoulder as they watched the ice-skaters in the winter sunlight. She cried. 

Properly, truly – tired face crumpling as the first few tears tracked down her cheeks. Her head had fallen forward in the chair, dark hair covering most of her face. Emma could hear her sniffling, see one manicured hand coming up to brush them away from her eyes. Hearing those choked, whimpery noise in her girlfriends voice – usually so strong and fierce – just broke her heart. 

“Regina –” Emma tried, mouth dry. 

“I’m sorry,” Regina managed, voice low and hoarse and unsteady. She stood up sharply from the chair, shaking her hair back from her wet face. “I know better than anyone how you feel about pity and trust me, Emma, that’s not what I’m doing.” She breathed in, chest heaving as she stared upwards for a second. “I’m just sorry.” 

“Yeah,” Emma said quietly. She swallowed. “I know.”

Regina breathed in again, rubbing the last of her tears away from her face with the heel of her hand. She blinked in the harsh lighting, releasing along exhale. “I just hate seeing you like this.” She admitted. 

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. Neither did Regina – instead, the brunette took a step closer to the bed, leaning over to brush a few stray strands of blonde hair off her sweat-slicked forehead. Her fingertips were soft, her touch gentle and caring. Emma stared upwards, and her eyes caught hers. 

“Regina,” Emma said finally, feeling something lodged deep inside her chest melt. “Hey. _Hey_.” She ran her eyes studiously over the brunette. How this woman, this _remarkable_ , astonishing woman, could possibly feel this way over _her_... She made sure to keep eye contact. “It’s okay. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know.” Regina replied, brown eyes fixed on her. Her voice was hoarse and, for perhaps the first time since she’d met her, almost weak. “But you’re _not_.” 

Emma felt something inside her collapse. “Get in here,” She said, motioning with her head. 

“I don’t think we’re allowed to –”

“Regina.” Emma met her eyes, soft and resolute. 

With a heavy sigh and a brave, hopeless smile, Regina stood up and took a few steps forward over the linoleum floor, brushing imaginary lint off the front of her slacks. Standing there for that brief second with arms wrapped around herself in her rumpled clothes and flat shoes, bare face red from crying, Regina looked somehow impossibly small. 

Regina sniffled, wrapping her sweater tighter around herself before moving the rail aside and climbing onto the hospital bed beside her. She felt the mattress dip under her weight. It took a moment before Regina laid down properly against the pillows, resting her head and burrowing against Emma’s chest. 

“Now put my arm around you.” Emma managed, and Regina complied without a word, gentle fingers carefully manoeuvring them into place. When she saw Regina’s arm wrap tightly around her stomach, she couldn’t help but smile despite the pain in her chest and her throat and the pounding in her head and the guilt and the hatred. All that went away. The sight of Regina there, tucked in her arms, holding her... It did the trick every time.

“There.” She said softly. “That’s better, right?”

“Emma,” Regina sighed heavily, nestling her head into the crook of her neck. Her skin was warm, and under the sharp antiseptic air of the room she smelled like Emma, vanilla and softness and off-brand shampoo. 

“I’m here,” Emma murmured. The words lodged painfully in her throat before she got them out. “I’m okay.” She let her eyes fall shut, resting her own cheek against the top of Regina’s head. “Sleep now.” 

The next thing she knew she was opening her eyes blearily to darkness – someone had turned out the light. She could just make out the shape of her dad slumped and sleeping in the chair by the bed. Her cheek was pressed against a scratchy white pillow, and silky dark hair. The machine was still beeping faintly into the night, and she could feel warm breath against her neck. Emma released a long exhale as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she saw Regina, sound asleep beside her. Falling back to sleep after that was easy.

The next time she woke up, it was still the night but the other side of the hospital bed was cold. Emma breathed heavily, wishing she could roll over or maybe just wake up in her fully working body and have this whole thing just be a dream. Beside the bed, the machine was still beeping monotonously, again and again. There was a blue light flashing. Her dad was still asleep in the chair. 

Across the room, Emma could see the blurry vision of a brunette pacing absently with her shoes in her hands. She was talking on the phone, in a soft soothing voice. “I know, Henry,” She kept saying. “I know. I’ll be back in the morning, okay? I’ll see you then, Henry.” She sounded sad, and soft, and quiet. “I love you, Henry. I’ll be there with you soon, I promise. As soon as I’m back. I promise, Henry. I love you.” 

And Emma’s heart just _sank_.


	28. Hard Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! Christmas got in the way. But I’m back now and I hope you all had a happy holiday. 
> 
> Once again, I’m going to have to ask you to bear with me and trust that I have a very specific plan I’m following and you will get your happy ending in the end. Arrows being pulled back and all that. 
> 
> I love you all, and as always, thank you so much for reading and having patience with me!

It was snowing again when Emma woke up. 

Her room in the hospital was on the second floor, but the deep-set window next to the bed gave a pretty perfect view of the car park – ugly black gravel and parking meters and not much else. It was a relentless, grey, sleet-like snow today, drifting down over the parking lot and melting as it touched the concrete. Beyond the glass, slushy ice piled up on the sill. Above the empty cars and scattered hospital buildings, the wide winter sky was turning the colour of bile. 

She sighed. 

Time seemed to stop in the hospital, despite whatever the clock on the wall said. Emma had been in there for five days, but it might as well have been five months. Her sleeping pattern was messed up, she was tired and she was bored out of her mind. There was nothing for her to do but watch infomercials on the shitty hospital TV... And think. 

The latter was definitely worse. 

For the past six months she’d been evolving: constantly changing and unfolding like a caterpillar in a chrysalis. It was a shitty metaphor but it was the best she could come up with, submerged in the timeless grey bubble of the hospital. Anyway, what Emma had eventually figured out was that she hadn’t quite come out yet. 

Sure, she’d grown. She’d grown a hell of a lot. But she wasn’t... She didn’t really know how to put it in words, but she wasn’t _whole_. Not all the time, not on her own. Not yet. 

And she was on her own _a lot_ in that hospital. 

Her family came and went, August’s shifts were better than the rest, Ruby stopped by with flowers and a card at some point, but mostly Emma was pretty alone with her thoughts. 

It reminded her of how she’d been before Regina had barged into her life. Just sitting, all day, every day, stewing in self-pity, cutting out every single person who tried to do her right. The monotonous emptiness of the days in the hospital were the same as they were back then: except they were also the complete opposite. Now she was firmly in her chrysalis. Now she and her parents were... Getting somewhere. And of course, now there was Regina.

 _Regina_. 

Regina, who had left early the morning after she’d been rushed in, to see Henry and make sure he got to school alright. Regina, who came back an hour later with a lasagne and a pile of audiobooks. She left again in the evening to put Henry to bed, but came back again for the night shift despite Emma’s protests. Apparently her friend Kathryn was babysitting. _Still..._

Emma couldn’t help but feel _awful_ about the whole thing. Ever since that first day, hearing her talking to Henry so softly and sadly in the middle of the night... The bottom line was, somewhere out there, that kid had needed his mom and his mom wasn’t there. And for what?

God, she didn’t know. Maybe it was dumb. But the whole time she was lying there, doing nothing, Cora’s voice kept floating back to her, echoing all these doubts she didn’t even know she still had. _What’s best for her right now is to be with her son. Look after him. Healing from the last ten years. I fail to see how you fit into the picture._

 _Regina doesn’t_ , Emma had told her, back at the lake house, when she had had to be the strong one for once. But maybe that was the problem. Regina was to good and too selfless to realise, but Emma could finally see. See what, she wasn’t sure yet. All she knew was that it _fucking hurt_. 

Whatever, Emma thought, staring out at the dull grey snow without seeing any of it. Being alone with her thoughts was _definitely_ the worst part. 

-0-

Regina pulled up at her usual car park spot in the hospital ten minutes later than usual on the fifth day. 

She sighed as she pulled out her phone and checked the time. She said she’d be in on time for lunch – Emma hated the dry, undercooked meals the hospital cooked so she’d taken to bringing in an extra portion of whatever she’d made Henry the night before. _Well. It can’t be helped_. Kathryn had an emergency with her dog and couldn’t check in til ten minutes ago. 

Kathryn had been watching Henry almost every day this week. Though she was grateful, Regina couldn’t help but feel bad about using her friend like this, no matter how much Kathryn assured her it was no trouble. Still, it meant she could be with Emma when she needed her. 

Regina tucked her phone back into her bag and killed the engine, opening the door and stepping out onto the gravel parking lot. Outside, the air was thin and wintry, full of the wet grey snow that had fallen for hours this morning. The heels of her boots crunched in the black ice. 

Huffing a breath of pale mist, she closed the car door and locked up behind her, shivering slightly inside her trench coat. Winter in Storybrooke, it seemed, was a dragging affair. Regina pulled her coat tighter and hurried down through the revolving doors into the hospital reception, where she was hit by the sharp antiseptic smell of medication and cleaning fluid. Her nose wrinkled. 

She nodded briefly when the receptionist said hello before starting the familiar trek up to Emma’s ward – by the third day, navigating the fluorescent white maze of hospital corridors and stairwells had become little more than muscle memory. 

Upstairs, she exchanged an awkward glance with the ward receptionist, who’d been letting her in and out without question since Mary Margaret had defended her that first night, and made her way down the corridor to Emma’s room. Her heels clicked rhytmically against the polished floor. Regina hefted her bag onto her shoulder and pushed through the doorway – inside, the curtains were thrown back, flooding the clinical little room with bright winter light. 

“Morning,” Regina called, lifting her bag up onto the chair and flipping her windblown hair out of her face.

Emma glanced up at her, green eyes shadowed and tired looking. She was sitting upright under the tight white sheets, adjustable bed at it's highest level. “Hey.” Her voice was rough and heavy, too. Regina hoped she was sleeping alright – she knew the machines by the bed were distracting. Maybe should could catch one of the nurses and speak to them about it. 

“You doing okay today?” Regina asked, studying the blonde as she stripped off her coat. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Emma allowed, brows slightly furrowed. She looked distracted. “Just wish I could get out of here, you know? All this hospital stuff’s kinda driving me crazy.”

“I know,” Regina sympathized, leaning over to brush back stray blonde hair and give her a quick greeting kiss on the forehead – lips were strictly off limits unless she wanted to being in the next ward on, according to Doctor Whale. “I know, dear, but it won't be much longer now.”

“Yeah,” Emma half shook her head, casting a glance out the window and wincing in the glaring sunlight. The hospital bed was in upright position, so she was sitting, blonde hair caught in the neck of her shirt. There was clearly something else on her mind as she studied Regina – lips pinched into a thin line, brow furrowed, green eyes tinged with an oddly new kind of sadness, and when she spoke her voice was strangely heavy. It had been for days. Regina had been putting it down to staying in the hospital so long but now... She wasn’t so sure. 

Emma lifted her head, finally meeting Regina’s eyes. “Distract me. News?” 

“You’ve got two new cards.” Regina informed her, glad of the distraction herself. She fished the first – a generic get well soon – out of her bag and set it neatly on the bedside table. “This one’s from Kathryn. And _this_ ,” Regina said, rifling through the her handbag until she finally came up with the card she was after. She bit back a smile - she was counting on this one to cheer the blonde up a little. “Is from Henry.”

Emma stared up suddenly at the mention of Regina’s son, green eyes wide. That put a soft smile on Regina’s face – she held out the card so Emma could see, taking a seat softly on the side of the hospital bed beside her. The bedframe creaked as she eased herself back beside Emma. 

“See,” Regina watched as the blonde’s eyes tracked over the scruffy drawing, face softening. “It’s the three of us. There’s you, and me, and Henry.” 

Emma’s green eyes were wide and shining, lips slightly parted. Regina could see the muscles of her throat bob and contract as she swallowed. Clearly, the homemade card was as touching to her as it had been to Regina when her son had presented it proudly to her the night before. 

It was done on a piece of folded card pilfered from the brunette’s stationary drawer: a crammed get well soon Emma! was written in squashed up handwriting across the top, over a careful drawing of a figure in a chair with a mass of yellow curls, beside one with shorter dark hair, clearly meant to be Regina. Henry was in the middle. All three wore big curvy smiles.

Emma felt something buried deep inside her chest just _break_. 

It was written clearly all over her face, whatever it was. Her face was downcast, green eyes wide and glistening, never leaving the childish card for a second. The light from the window played over her pale skin and found flecks of gold in her blonde hair. 

“Emma?” Regina’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Are you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Fine,” Emma breathed in, glancing up at the ceiling for a second to try and hold back any more tears and spare them both the awkwardness. “I just...” She summoned the courage to meet her eyes. “Tell him thanks, okay?”

“Tell him yourself,” Regina rebuked, with an uncertain smile. She couldn’t help but feel confused. The energy between them, buzzing all around Emma, was just ever so slightly different today. It was throwing her off. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to pay a visit if you’re in any longer.”

Truth be told, he was dying to see Emma. Every day since she’d been in hospital he’d been desperate to know what was going on, and Regina had tried to explain as best she could – she’d been doing a lot of Googling. He was so worried that first night he’d woken up at two am after a nightmare. Thankfully Kathryn had the sense to call her and she talked him through it. 

“Sure,” Emma said, nodding unconvincingly. Her voice was very soft and heavy. “But just for now, okay? Just for now tell him... I’m gonna treasure this forever.” 

Regina nodded, brows knitting together slightly. “Emma...”

“Good morning Miss Swan,” Both women turned their heads towards the door, which Doctor Whale was closing behind him. Regina tried to restrain a disappointed sigh. That man had a habit of turning up at the _worst_ possible moment. Whale paused, taking her in for a second. “Regina.” 

“Morning,” Emma muttered, still not entirely herself. 

Whale nodded, ignoring the way Regina blanked his arrival. There was a dark stain on one side of his white coat, and he held a grey card file under his arm, half-filled with documents. He looked between the two of them, fake smile plastered on. “How are we feeling today?”

“Okay, I guess,” Emma allowed, looking up at him with a distracted, sunlit face. “The pressure in my chest’s mostly gone.”

“Excellent,” Whale flashed another dazzlingly processed smile. “And you’ll be pleased to know your temperature levelled out last night, so that’s pretty much back to normal.”

Emma didn’t appear to be listening too intently. “Great.”

“So when do you think she’ll be able to go home?” Regina asked, standing up again with a creak of the bedframe. She brushed down her trousers, turning on her heels to face the doctor down. Questioning the hospital staff like this did make her feel better, in a strange way – more in control. Or it usually did, when she wasn’t so... Preoccupied. She shot a glance at Emma. “Soon?”

“Soon enough.” Whale nodded. “We’ll try and get in a suction cleaning before then. And we think it’s best to go at least another night. Things like this don’t tend to go quietly, so to speak. Not in people with the level of Emma’s condition.” 

“Great.” Emma muttered again, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She kept glancing around, gaze landing everywhere but Regina’s eyes. 

“So you can’t give us a date?” Regina demanded, folding her arms tight over her chest. _God, there must be_ something _good for her to hear_.

“Two to three more days, I’d say, so long as nothing drastic happens.” Whale estimated, too casually for Regina’s liking. “But while you’re here, maybe we could discuss options for long-term prevention? It’s important after a scare like this to make sure nothing happens again.” He paused. “Or maybe we should wait for the mayor –”

“She’ll be in soon, and my dad.” Emma put in listlessly. 

“Well give me a shout and I’ll put my head in then.” Whale said. He took a pause to shoot a long, thoughtful look toward Emma, brows furrowed. “I think it would be good to discuss things with them.” 

“What _things_?” Regina demanded, shifting on her feet and looking up to face the doctor squarely in the eye. Since the first night, she’d felt a lot better about the whole thing – as better as possible, she supposed. Mary Margaret had helped, and so had the long days sitting on the end of the hospital bed beside Emma’s feet, reading aloud to her or just talking. The sense of utter helplessness and loss she’d felt then had faded somewhat, but it was still there, running like white noise in the back of her mind. She stared at Whale. “I think it’s only fair I know what’s going on.” 

“I was just going to ask if she’d ever considered installing a ventilator at home.” Whale explained. “If something like this were to occur again it would be helpful, certainly. And especially in winter it might provide a good daily help. Just on the off chance –”

“So now I can’t even breathe on my own?” 

Regina turned around sharply at the sound of Emma’s harsh voice, wishing there was something she could do. Emma was sitting up staring at them, jaw tight, green eyes turned skyward. Clearly, she was itching to say something or do something herself or move – Regina could recognise her tells easily now. The sunlight cascaded in from the window and over her pale face, glowing off her profile and turning her hair to gold. 

“Emma,” Regina bit her lip, turning back to Whale with the pain in her chest growing. “Whale, could you give us a minute?”

“Of course,” The doctor nodded, glancing between them before ducking out the door and closing it tight behind him. 

The moment the doorknob clicked Regina spun hopelessly back towards Emma, fingertips resting on the plastic bed rail. She wished there was something she could do - already, just looking at the resignation and pain written across the hard lines of her girlfriend's face was sending her drifting again, back into that godawful feeling of helplessness. Regina swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat, lifting a hand to brush back a stray strand of dark hair. 

"Emma, seriously." She breathed in, brown eyes seeking Emma's green. "What's going on?"

Emma didn't miss a beat. "Nothing."

"Emma," Regina sighed, shaking her head and taking a moment to collect herself before meeting her eyes again. She breathed in and tried to work the staticky discomfort and the frustration and the damned uselessness down from her throat into the pit of her stomach, where she could at least get it into a knot and work around it. 

That done, temporarily at least, Regina made herself lift her gaze back to Emma's - it hit her like a blow to the chest. 

Emma was looking at her in a detached sort of way, green eyes wide and shining. She looked almost... tearful, Regina realised, hand instinctively going to her stomach. She recognised that look, she realised, quite suddenly. The tight clench of her jaw, the defensiveness buzzing around her skin, the look in her eyes. 

It was the same look she'd had that first month of Regina's employment when she'd talked about hating pity and why she stayed away from people. It was same look she'd had when she shouted at her after their moment with the leftover apple pie. The same look she'd had after her panic attack at the resturant, when she asked Regina to help her touch her. 

_Oh god_. 

"Talk to me." Regina said, moving closer to the hospital bed. Her voice sounded softer than she expected. 

_Don't do this again._

"Nothing to say, 'Gina." Emma repeated, bright plastic smile appearing on her lips. If Regina didn't know her better than she knew herself, it might have fooled her. The blonde raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, giving her a look. "Really." She swallowed - her voice was strained. "I'm fine." 

Despite the weight inside her chest, and the wariness crawling over her skin like a film, Regina forced herself to push it back. Mary Margaret and David would be here soon, and it wasn't the time. After all, Emma always opened up to her in the end. It just took space, security and her own time. 

She would, Regina told herself. She always did. 

-0-

The minute the heavy door clicked shut behind Regina, Emma's heart collapsed into a sigh her shoulders couldn't quite manage. 

The hours before Regina had to get back for Henry seemed to drag on like never before today. It was weird - usually, whatever time she spent with the brunette flew by in an instant, and she was still left wanting more. But since her... Whatever it was, it just made her feel... Guilty. 

From the moment she'd walked through the door, it had been building in Emma like a sickness, all this thick, heavy guilt, weighing on her heart and settling in her stomach. It buzzed through her head the whole time Regina had been talking with her and Doctor Whale, and after he'd gone and Regina had sat with her and... She just couldn't stop thinking how wrong it felt, how wrong _everything_ felt since hearing her with Henry that first night.

Emma released a long breath, looking out the frost-edged window. Winter wind wound through the trees outside, making branches rattle. The smell of her perfume still lingered in the air. 

She loved Regina, she did. She loved her so much that sometimes she thought she could physically feel it, not just in the muscle and nerve endings that still worked like they should, but everywhere, inside and out. She loved her so much sometimes she thought it didn't even matter she couldn't move or feel the way everybody else did, because she could feel _Regina_ and that was more than enough. That was special, perfect, and entirely hers. That was better. 

But if there was one thing Emma knew for sure by now, it was that love wasn't always easy. In fact, she thought, it was more often the opposite. 

She just wished there was something she could do. Some way she could give Regina and Henry the time and space they needed together and somehow still have them both in her life. But if things like this - this hard hospital mattress underneath her, propping her up; these fluorescent lights glaring down on her; the medication pumping through her veins; the machine hooked up next to her in case she started suffocating on nothing - were going to keep happening, that just wasn't an option. There was a reason spending time with her used to be Regina's job. Now it wasn't... Emma was excess. Taking up more than her fair share. 

Emma sighed, turning to look at the handmade card perched on the plastic table by her bedside. Beside it, the vase of little white flowers Ruby and Dorothy had brought her were starting to die, dropping shrivelled petals over the hospital floor. She imagined Henry sprawled out over his space rug on his bedroom floor, concentrating hard on getting it just right, felt-tip all over his skinny fingers, and couldn't help the lump in her throat. _I'm gonna miss that kid._

_God, I'm a mess._

She couldn't have said how long it was until she was pulled from her thoughts by the sudden click of the doorknob, the creek of it opening. Emma breathed in sharply and blinked a couple of times, forcing herself back into the world outside her head. 

“Hi, Emma,” Mary Margaret breathed, bustling through the door with a coffee cup and today’s newspaper under her arm. She looked tired, and her dark hair was sticking up at the back.

“Hi,” Emma watched her come in, setting the coffee down on the bed tray and folding up yesterday’s paper. The door swung shut behind her, creaking slightly. She peered behind her mom, brows drawing into a slight frown. “Where’s dad?”

“He had to go to the station, there was some hoo-ha with that shoplifting case –” Her mom shook her head distractedly, thin eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know, but he said to tell you he’d be here as soon as he could.”

“It’s fine,” Emma tried to tell her, for the millionth time, as Mary Margaret settled into the blue armchair beside the bed, taking off the pastel-blue pea coat David had bought her for their anniversary last year. Emma lifted a brow, trying to catch her eye. “You know, you guys don’t have to come in here all the time. Doctors said I’d be out in a couple of days, tops.”

Mary Margaret’s head shot up at that – her green eyes were wide and shining with winter light, almost wounded. “We’re you’re parents Emma,” She said, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. She glanced down at her lap and her hands for a second before meeting her daughters eyes. “It’s not a matter of _have to_ it’s a matter of _need to_. We want to, Emma.”

Emma didn’t really know what to say to that.

An awkward silence settled over the both of them. The two of them had rarely been left alone together since... Everything. Not like this, not with nothing to talk about. It was fine when David was around but without him there was just nothing to say. What could she say?

What could she say when she knew it was Mary Margaret who always wanted a kid. It was Mary Margaret who'd been the driving force in the whole adoption process. Mary Margaret who’d tried uncertainly for two years to get Emma comfortable calling her _mom_ , Mary Margaret who bought her shoes and taught her algebra, Mary Margaret who spent all night Googling LGBT alliance websites when she found out Emma was gay because she wanted to know how to be supportive ‘properly’. 

Mary Margaret, who’d fallen to the ground when she found out about the accident. Who had spiralled into depression, and doubt, and god knows what else after. Who she’d pushed away. Ignored. Lashed out at. _God_. 

What did you say, after all that? What _could_ you _possibly_ say?

Emma ducked her head awkwardly against the cushions, shooting a glance out the window as if the trees and the empty grey sky might somehow help her. 

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, without thinking. 

Mary Margaret looked up from the ground, green eyes wide and searching in her pale face. “Sorry?” She seemed lost. “For what?”

“For fucking everything up.”

And suddenly, she was breathing in and when she breathed out it all just came rushing out with the breath into the open air like so much dust spilling from an old cupboard or an avalanche – some immense force of nature she couldn’t stop if she tried. It was like there was too much remorse inside of her, too much _sorry_ for one person to hold. The new was pushing out the old. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and pushing you away and making you think or feel like you weren’t good enough or you’d done something wrong when all you’ve done is do the best you could,” Emma swallowed hard, fighting back tears for the second time in three hours. _Jesus Christ._ “Sorry I was an asshole.”

Mary Margaret was staring at her in shock, big eyes glistening in the winter sun. When she spoke, her voice was small and futile. “Emma...”

“No, Mom!” Emma protested, shaking her head as much as she could. “Don’t you dare try and defend me in all this because I was an _asshole_. I was a massive, awful, _inexcusable_ asshole.” She paused, swallowed, breathed in. “You know why?” She couldn't even stop long enough to let the older woman answer - it all kept coming, blood from a wound. “I was an asshole because it hurt me to look at you and see you in pain. And it hurt because I know it was all because of me. And none of that was anybody’s fault but if I had just told you that, and smiled, and let you do shit for me without tearing you apart maybe we wouldn’t be sitting here with nothing to say now.”

Emma exhaled, breath coming short and shallow like she'd just run a marathon. For her, she practically had. She swallowed, slumping back against the cushions of her bed, exhaling. Despite the tears burning behind her eyes, she felt suddenly somehow lighter, more weightless, as if all the crap she’d kept bottled up inside of her for so long had turned to helium and now she was nothing but empty skin.

For a long time, the sterile white hospital room fell into stillness. Not quiet - the machine was still beeping, the shoes in the corridor were still squeaking, the lights were still buzzing, the clock was still ticking, the computer down the hall was still tapping, the trees were still rattling against the window. But stillness. A charged, open sort of stillness as Emma's honesty hung in the air between them, floated down and settled over them like dust. 

And then, softly and surely, Mary Margaret started to speak. 

“So you handled everything wrong.” Mary Margaret said. Her voice was tremulous and thick with emotion, but light and certain. “So did I. It takes two people to miscommunicate."

Emma looked up across the room at her and nodded. Mary Margaret was sitting upright in the blue vinyl chair, hands buried in the folds of the coat in her lap, tears shining in her eyes. She heard her breath in. "I can’t tell you how much it means to me... You opening up like that, like this – and I think you should know that I’m sorry too. More sorry than you could ever know." She paused, breathing in again and closing her eyes a moment. When they opened, they were right on Emma. "I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” Emma said, eyes downcast for a second. Her voice was small and hoarse, unfamiliar in her own ears. 

“Maybe now... We can try and move forward." Mary Margaret asked hopefully. She took a long pause. "Maybe we can be okay, again.”

“I’d like that.” Emma managed, small smile appearing on her lips despite the lump in her throat. 

“And for the record, Emma,” Mary Margaret breathed, green eyes full of tears. “There’s not nothing to say.” She leaned suddenly forward in the bedside chair and reached out, taking Emma’s limp hand between her own and squeezing tight. “There’s everything.”

"Yeah," Emma spoke softly around the lump in her throat. _I still have something. I still have something._ "I guess there is. And Mom?” Emma tried, breath catching in her throat a little as she tried to find the right words. Mary Margaret turned back to her, eyes wide and expectant. Emma swallowed. “Thanks, I guess. For... putting up with me.” 

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gave her a look, eyebrows raised. 

“No,” Emma pushed on. “The truth is I’ve been an asshole to you. Like I said, after the accident I shut you out and pushed you away more than anyone, just because it was too hard for me to see your pain and let you see mine. A lot of moms wouldn't have dealt with that as gracefully as you. You're strong. That’s probably the most selfish thing I could have done and...” Emma stopped short, cogs finally all clicking into place. She breathed in and nodded. “I think I’m done being selfish.”

And that was it. 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, and her eyes landed on the card Henry made her, she knew. That drawing, that was how she knew she’d done the right thing. She meant what she’d said. She would treasure it forever, because it would be a reminder of a time she’d done the right thing, even when it damn near _broke_ what was left of her heart to go through with it. She couldn't do to Regina what she did to Mary Margaret. She wouldn't. 

Regina came back to the hospital and stayed again that night, no matter how much Emma tried to convince them both she didn’t need her - it was nice though, in a way, nicer than the overwhelming, drowning guilt that had tainted their morning together. Talking with her mom had been cathartic, and now she knew what she was going to do, well... 

Emma woke up several times in the night – she could never sleep in hospital beds. Not without anaesthetic, anyway. The last time, when she blearily opened her eyes, it took a few blinks for them to adjust to the darkness. Dim grey moonlight washed through the curtains, striking the metallic edges of the machines around the bed and the curling wires. One of them was still beeping, a little blue light flashing on and off, on and off, on and off, but it was the nearest thing to silence Storybrooke's only hospital seemed to get. She could faintly see Regina curled up in the chair by the bed under a thin hospital blanket. Her knees were tucked up to her chest, boots sitting empty at the foot of the chair. 

Emma exhaled slowly into her scratchy pillow. In the darkness, she could just make out the way her hair had fallen in her face as she slept, the way it had in the cabin after their first night together, when everything was warm and magic. Now the hospital bed was cold, and inside of her, the part that knew she had to do the right thing was colder still. She could hear Regina breathing, so gently, in and out. She tried to regulate her own breaths so they'd go in time.

The decision was made. She’d talk to her about it... But not til morning. She looked so beautiful asleep, and after all, they’d always given themselves the night


	29. Courage and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know from your response to the last chapter that I lot of you have guessed where this is going, and a lot of you are right. Just remember everything I said at the beginning of this fic. I am so sorry, I really am but as always you’re just going to have to trust that I have a plan and you’ll see the method behind my madness very, very soon. There’s a lot of angst coming, but hopefully the end result will be worth it. Wait and see. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for sticking with this story!

When Emma woke up the next morning, the snow had stopped, and outside the window a gory sunrise flooded light through the curtains and over onto Regina’s sleeping figure. 

The brunette was curled up on the blue vinyl chair, knees tucked up to her chest. With her head dropped onto her shoulder and her dark hair falling across her cheek, she looked like something out of a storybook, or a film. The morning sunrise glanced off her hair and caressed her cheek. Emma allowed herself a long moment to take in her beauty and her energy, soak it up like a sponge. _Store it for winter._

On the opposite wall, the clock kept ticking, ticking, ticking, reminding her of time’s passage. In the hospital, time was different – it had always seemed slow and heavy, as if being trapped between the clean white walls dragged the minutes down. As if the prayers in the multifaith chapel downstairs for longer with loved ones almost worked. _I should be so lucky_. Today though, time was quick. 

_It doesn’t matter anyway_ , Emma thought, studying the way the fiery glow of the rising sun caught in Regina’s dark hair like a crown. _Forever wouldn’t be long enough._

Blinking the last crust of sleep from her eyes, Emma took a deep breath and forced herself to look away. She studied her hands while her mind woke up piece by piece, watching the play of orange light on the crease of her knuckles and her stubby fingernails. She exhaled, long and heavy.

Down the hall she could hear the sound of voices deep in conversation, coffee being poured. Outside the window a new car drove up to park, an old one left. The machine beeped faithfully at her bedside. Already, the world was beginning to come alive with the morning. Emma sighed. Soon, Regina would wake up and want to stay, and Emma would have to tell her why she couldn’t. 

And she would. That she knew for certain. 

Emma managed a glance at the plastic table by the bed, where the last of Ruby’s flowers were dying, dropping white petals over the linoleum. Under the papery brown stalks, Henry’s card stood proudly, declaring it’s message for all the world to see. Emma let her eyes track over the careful felt-tip lines, the hand-drawn smiles, a loose wave of blonde hair brushing against her cheek. 

Sighing, she spared another glance up at the clock. Soon enough, one of the nurses would be in to ask what she wanted for breakfast, and then one or both of her parents would arrive, and the day would start and the world would go on regardless of what happened to them.

One last time, Emma wished there was some escape clause, some option number three she hadn’t noticed before, but when she closed her eyes and let her head drop back against the hospital pillows the only new thing running through her mind was... _the pain_. The sheer, building, burning, growing, writhing _pain_ in her head and her chest and jackhammering at her temples, now she knew that in probably less than an hour, her world would be completely changed. 

She couldn’t have said how long she sat there, listening to the clock ticking away the time she had left, before the sound of Regina stirring a few feet away made Emma’s stomach flip. 

The brunette released a soft groan, knees shifting against the chair’s armrest. Emma watched raptly as Regina’s spine stretched and arched, head pushing back against the yielding vinyl. She wasn’t totally awake, but she was on her way. After a tense few seconds, Regina settled back down in a new position, cheek resting against her hand. Her shoulders relaxed once more as her breath slowed. 

Emma studied her with a sudden urgency, a _need_ to memorise every inch, every tiny detail of this remarkable woman. Now she’d moved, her hair had fallen back from her face against her neck, and the poppy-red sunrise fell across her skin, lighting up her face. Emma could feel her heart beginning to pound harder inside her chest. Her eyes tracked the other woman from head to toe.

There was no choice about it. She _would_ remember. When she needed to most, in a few days, weeks, years, Emma would make herself remember the way the sunrise made her skin almost glow gold. It sent the shadows of her coffee-dark eyelashes over her cheeks, shone off her hair. She’d been wearing makeup last night, but her dark pink lipstick had faded off and the kohl above her eyes was smudged softly. The little scar above her lip seemed more pronounced, the lines at the corners of her eyes more important. Asleep, unknowing, Regina was beautiful as the queen in the story they read to Henry. God, she was. _More_. So beautiful it hurt. 

Like the sun, Emma supposed, Regina’s light was so strong you shouldn’t look directly at it. The thought put a hint of a smile on her lips, looking down at herself. _It’s a little late for health and safety now_. 

As if on cue, Regina released another strained groan, legs unfolding so the bottom of her socks skimmed the floor. Emma watched her stretch her neck, her arms, and slowly come to sitting with the late sun finding gold in her dark hair. She rubbed her eyes absently with the heel of her hand, yawning once before glancing over at Emma as she realised she was awake. 

A soft, sleepy smile appeared on Regina’s face and hit Emma in the chest like shrapnel. The morning light was turning her eyes from cocoa to ochre to gold. “Morning,” She said. Her voice was low and heavy with sleep. 

Emma tried to speak, but her mouth was suddenly dry. “Morning.” 

Regina paused, stretching her back again, the movement long and languid. It couldn’t have been comfortable, sleeping cramped up in that armchair all night. When she was done, she ran a hand through her sleep-mussed hair and her gaze returned to Emma. “Have they been for breakfast?” 

“Not yet.” Emma replied. Her voice sounded strained, and there was a lump in her throat. 

“You want me to run down to the shop and get you something?” Regina asked, rubbing the stiff muscles of her neck absently as she spoke. 

Emma’s tongue darted out to wet her lips anxiously. “It’s fine,”

Regina gave her a look. “You know that hospital food is crap.”

“I know.” 

Emma never let her stare fall for one minute – she was pretty sure she couldn’t if she wanted to. She was trying to catalogue Regina’s every movement while she still could, adding the way she rolled her stiff shoulder and how her voice was lower when she’d just woken up to the list of things she needed to remember. 

Soon enough, the spell was broken when August pushed through the door in his green scrubs to get her breakfast order – as the clock ticked away the time they had left, Emma and Regina sat in a silence that was either loaded and waiting, or sleepy and comfortable, depending on which one you asked. Emma ate her dry hospital toast and it stuck in her throat. Regina picked at the remains of the quinoa salad she’d brought in the day before. The sun rose. 

Emma could feel the morning slipping through her fingers – she tried to make it last but it was like grasping at water. The clock kept ticking. Eventually, Regina put aside the half-empty Tupperware and picked up her phone. “Your dad says they’ll be here by twelve.” She told her, brown eyes glancing up at green. 

“Okay,” Emma managed, the words barely getting out from around the lump in her throat. 

“That’s good, I’ll leave then to check on Henry. Kathryn says –”

“Regina.” Emma said. The word caught in her throat. It was all she could think, all she could say. “ _Regina_.”

Regina glanced up at her sharply, brown eyes wide. All of a sudden, the energy had changed irrevocably. And now that it had, Emma realised, heart thumping, it wouldn’t change back. _Ever. God_. She had to do it now, now it was all building and boiling and breaking inside her, she had to or she never would and she could never live with herself if she never did and – “I think we need to talk.” 

“Oh,” Regina blinked, shutting off her phone and setting it down on the plastic table. “What about?”

Already, Emma could feel tears building behind her ears, just from looking at her. She really had no idea. Shit. Shit. She swallowed hard. “About...” She blinked. All night last night since she made the choice she’d been running through what she was going to say, but now, suddenly, in the face of reality, words deserted her. “Um, about...” 

Regina watched her struggle for a few moments, studying the blonde with caring eyes. After a few seconds she stood up from the chair, and she was lifting the plastic rail on the bed. Emma flinched, hot wave of panic flashing through her. “ _No_ , Regina, don’t –” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Don’t sit there.”

“Okay,” Regina said warily, taking a step back. Confusion and curiosity were written plainly across her face. “What’s going on, what’s wrong?” 

_Something_ was wrong, that was plain to see. 

“I think we should talk about... This.” Emma finally managed. She swallowed hard, willing her voice to come out. “You and me.”

Regina tried to conjure a smile, for her benefit. “You’re not proposing, are you?” She raised an eyebrow. 

A fresh spike of pain rushed through her, dizzyingly fast, for all the milestones they wouldn't have. “Don’t.” Emma managed, the simple word barely coming out from around the lump in her throat. And then, before she could get scared again - “I don’t think you should come back here later. And I don’t think you should come back tomorrow either.”

“Okay...” Regina allowed warily, unsure what Emma meant. 

She studied the other woman for a long moment, struggling to figure out what exactly was going on here. Emma was avoiding her eye, instead looking resolutely down at her own hands. A strand of blonde hair had fallen against her cheek, turned a thousand shades of gold by the early sun as it climbed across the sky beyond the window. Her tired face was all hard lines and conflict: her green eyes were shining. The tightness of her jaw, the slight furrow between her brows... 

Regina breathed in, trying to ignore the mounting unease in her stomach, and the way her heart thudded faster and faster as the silence between them drew on and on and on. She didn’t feel right. It was as if her body realised before her mind did. 

“In fact I don’t think we should...” Emma paused, the words catching in her throat. She forced herself to look up at her. “Carry on the way we were, once I’m out.” 

“What?” Regina was lost. Her voice sounded small and faraway in her own ears. She could hear her blood rushing, pounding. 

_She’s not._

All of a sudden it was all crashing down on her, every fear and every doubt she’d ever had. Worse – every fear and doubt she knew still plagued Emma.

_She can’t be._

Her hands jumped instinctively to her stomach, twisting. Still, Regina made herself watch the other woman as she seemed to collect herself, breathing in, swallowing, taking a moment to look out the window where a bird was cutting across the pale blue sky. 

“Here’s the thing,” Emma explained, finally finding the courage to turn back to her. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anything and you need to know that. But ever since I got in here I’ve been thinking –”

“Okay,” 

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve realised that if I love you... Then I want what’s best for you. And if I can give you that, what’s best for you, then I should. Even if it hurts me.” Emma swallowed hard. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears. She couldn’t believe she was saying the words. Her breath was shaking. She had no idea what to say next, but when her eyes found Regina’s, she found herself talking without thinking, and before she knew it she was fighting to hold back tears. 

“That night I was rushed in here, you came _flying_ down that corridor and you came in here and my mom was holding you up, you were so unsteady. And you had this look in your eyes, like you couldn’t understand how much pain you were in.” Emma forced herself to breathe out – it was like she’d scratched a scab right off, and suddenly it was all bleeding out of her. “And you sat in that chair there and you looked at me and you cried. You said you hated seeing me like that.” Blinking several times, Emma steeled herself and finally met Regina’s eyes. “Well let me tell you this, ‘Gina. I hated seeing _you_ like that.”

“But it wasn’t your fault...” Regina tried feebly. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m trying to say I think you’re special. I think you deserve the whole world.” Emma’s voice was breaking now. “And I can’t even give you a tiny piece of that. I’m like – I’m like a black hole, Regina. I keep sucking and sucking your energy and I don’t give anything back but pain and suffering! There’s someone out there for you that won’t make you cry all the time. There’s some life here for you that’s happy and good and reliable.”

Realisation was beginning to crawl across Regina’s face. Her wide eyes were shining now, full lips slightly parted. Her chest rose and fell with every breath. She blinked several times, shook her head. 

“Emma,” Regina said, struggling to think. “Emma.” She blinked, but she was blinded by the tears suddenly building behind her eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No!” Emma rushed to amend. Her heart wasn’t so much pounding as it was collapsing. She swallowed, green eyes finding Regina’s brown. “I just think we should take a step back. Or several. For you, for Henry... Look, I’ve just been thinking and... if I love you that much I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong when –”

“Nothing _is_ wrong!” Regina countered, voice rising with the colour in her cheeks. Her heart was racing desperately. She swallowed hard, paused, forced her mind into order. “If this is about your condition... You have to know I don’t care about that. I love you, chair or no chair.” Suddenly, she felt very lost and young and close to tears. “You.” 

“Regina, please.” Emma’s green eyes met hers, a hopeless whisper. After a long moment, Emma found her voice again, as the first tear finally slipped down her cheek. “I’m not going to get better. There’s no miracle, no cure, no _end_ to this. I’m not going to get better!”

“But...”

“There’s always going to be more hospitals. And more treatments. And more time wasted on me that you could be spending with your son.” Emma faltered. Her voice was thick with grief. “Regina, that kid is _nine_. He needs you. You should be with him right now, not me. But if you stay with me you’ll be with me more and more, and all you’ll ever get for it is heartbreak.” She blinked until she could see again, voice falling to a pained whisper. “I love you too much to let that happen.” 

Regina caught her eye, swallowing. Emma tried not to look too long at the way her brown eyes brimmed with tears, shone with realisation and confusion and – a thought crawled through the back of Regina’s mind like an itch. It was just that comment about Henry... _Sounds almost familiar._ Regina stared at her. “Did my mother say something to you?”

“No! I mean, yes. Maybe.” Emma shook her head dismissively. “But that’s not what this is about, I made this decision myself.”

Regina faltered. It took her a few moments before she could speak. “So you’re breaking up with me,”

“That’s not what I said.” 

“That’s what you meant.”

Emma didn’t say anything. 

For a long time, nobody did. 

Regina’s hand darted up quick to catch the first tear and wipe it away before it could fall. Standing there in her heels in a sterile hospital room in front of Emma, she was certain she’d never felt so hopeless. Not when she found out she was pregnant, not when she realised her feelings for Robin had gone, not when she signed the divorce papers, not when she moved so far for so much. _For this._

Suddenly, a flash of anger spiked through her, churning her stomach. How could this be happening? After so long, after all they’d been through, how was it even _possible_ Emma didn’t know how much she cared? How was it possible she had no idea Regina would gladly sit in a hundred hospital waiting rooms every night for the rest of her life it meant she got to be with Emma? _After everything_. Was nothing she’d done enough?

And it wasn’t just for her own sake – this was about more than the two of them. The brunette turned sharply on her heels, eyes flickering over Emma’s resigned face.

“What about Henry?” Regina demanded, voice harsh. “What do you expect me to tell him?”

“The truth.” Emma said, still not meeting her eye. “That he needs you more than I do. That I refuse to be the reason you’re not spending all the time you can with him after all he’s been through.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Regina breathed, suddenly done with tears and anger and excuses. She took a few steps forward, trying to ignore the way Emma flinched when she came near. “You don’t have to and you know it. Just talk to me. Talk to me like you always do and we’ll work something out like we always do –” She bit down on her lip, fighting to keep from breaking down. 

Emma turned her head sharply. 

It was too much. 

“Regina, can you just go, please.” 

“Fine.” Regina snapped, voice harsh and close to breaking point. She was halfway to the door when she spun around on her heels to meet Emma’s eyes across the hospital room. She swallowed hard, dark eyes wide and shining with tears. “I know a lot about you, Emma. But I didn’t know you were a coward.” 

Regina’s dark eyes hung on hers for a moment, jaw tight, voice wavering. 

And with that she was gone, in a flurry of dark hair and clacking heels. The door creaked as it swung shut behind her, clicking into place.  
Silence fell. Outside, a bird was singing. The machine at her bedside still beeped. The clock still ticked. The last of the flowers bowed it’s papery stalk on the bedside table. As always, the smell of her perfume lingered where she’d stood. 

When they brought Emma into the hospital after the accident, she was on a stretcher. There was glass in her hair and her face, and she was bleeding through her khaki shirt in three different places. She was swimming in and out of consciousness, and a nurse was squeezing her hand. She’d just broken her spine so irreparably that she would never walk again, or drive her beloved yellow Bug, or make herself a cup of coffee. They’d asked her how much it hurt, and she’d muttered _like a bitch._

Later on, a nurse tried to tell her that’s how she knew she’d pull through – she was brave enough to make jokes and fight back even when she was hurting the most she physically could. 

But that wasn’t true. 

Emma didn’t know it then, but the truth was, when the time came for her to feel that much pain, she wouldn’t joke around. She wouldn’t fight back. She let her head drop back against the pillows, unsmiling, eyes squeezed shut tight against the world. 

She knew it now. 

-0-

Regina was fighting to hold back tears by the time she was back on her front doorstep, fumbling hard with the keys in the lock.  
When the front door finally opened she stepped into the warmth of her home, shut the door behind her and stood uselessly in the foyer for a few minutes, breathing in and out, in and out. 

After a few minutes she broke her trance, shaky fingers struggling as she stripped off her coat and dropped her bag by the front door. She walked through to the living room as if in a dream – trying to ignore the sharp cut-glass pain in her chest that shifted with every step. The room was empty. Henry must have been upstairs. 

Regina blinked several times, standing on the carpet with no point or purpose. She turned around, gaze falling on the mantelpiece, the framed pictures gathering a thin film of dust. She hadn’t had much time to clean since the hospital. Absently, she ran a finger over the wood, until she reached the photograph in the centre. The one from her birthday. 

Strangely numb, she reached to pick up the picture, staring at it for a second before turning it over and unclipping the back until she could slip the photo out. She set the empty frame neatly back on the mantel. 

Another couple of minutes passed with Regina standing there in the middle of the room, photograph in hand. She felt... Hollow. It was almost as if everything that had happened this morning was just some bad dream, and she’d wake up in the blue armchair in Emma’s hospital room in the morning and nothing would be wrong. 

_But it’s not._

Filled with a sudden rush of anger, she crumpled the photo in her hand and hurled it across the room, away from her. She just needed it away from her, she just needed - she needed - 

_God._

Regina collapsed against the wall, head falling back against it. Her eyes squeezed shut. A long heavy sigh fell from her lips. She barely remembered the drive home. She barely remembered anything past _could you just go, please_. 

Before she knew it she was on the floor, knees coming up to her chest. Her heart was pounding so hard and so futilely it almost felt like it was shaking, shivering inside of her chest. Finally alone, Regina let herself _break_. She dropped her head down against her arms, hiding in the quiet darkness behind her eyes as it all crashed down on her at once. 

And then she was thinking about her first day in her new job in this sleepy little town a thousand miles from anything she’d ever known. Her mind was racing with images, words, snatches of a weary smile and music, wheelchairs spinning to music and laughter, blonde hair shining in the sunlight and quiet whispers and explosive kisses and late night phone calls just to say _I love you_. 

And then she was crying: squeezing her eyes shut while tears streamed thickly down her face, chest rising and falling heavily with every breath. It hurt _so much_. It was the kind of consuming, shattering hurt that in any other circumstance she would have turned to Emma with. The first sob wracked her with a tiny gasp, and then some inner dam broke and she couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried. She let it tear through her. Sitting there, alone, Regina cried hard until her stomach hurt, hating herself for it all the while. 

She couldn’t have been like that more than a few minutes before she heard the footsteps on the stairs, and suddenly her heart jumped up into her throat, stomach flipping. She breathed in sharply, hands flying to try and wipe the tears from her eyes. Henry didn’t need to see her like this. 

“Mom?”

Regina was still struggling to dry her face on her sleeve when the small voice cut through the noise in her head. Her head jerked up to find her son, standing over her at the foot of the stairs, hazel eyes wide in his small face. She sniffed, blinking rapidly and hastily brushing back her hair, which had started sticking to her wet face. “Henry,” It was all she could manage without starting all over again.  
She tried to smile: she didn’t think it worked. _God, I’m pathetic_. Regina thought, smoothing back her hair again. _Pathetic_. But the voice in her head was her mother’s, and there was nothing she could do. 

“What happened?” Henry asked. His voice was very small.

“Emma,” Regina replied hoarsely, picking imaginary lint off her slacks. It was all she could think. She glanced up at the ceiling for a moment, battling a fresh flood of tears. She couldn’t believe what she was about to say. “Emma and I... Are no longer together.”

Henry’s face, already so sad, _fell_. 

After a moment of quietly observing her, he took a few steps closer into the den and wordlessly sat down beside her against the door, skinny knees pulled up to his chest. He looked confused, big bright eyes scanning the air as if trying to work out some imaginary problem. That was what did it – knowing that her beautiful, perfect boy was feeling it just as much as she was. Another tear escaped, slipping down Regina’s cheek before she could stop it. 

Henry fumbled in his jeans pocket for a second before coming out with a crumpled packet of tissues, offering it out to her in silence. 

Regina accepted with a squeeze of his small hand, fumbling to take a tissue out of the packet and carefully wiping under her eyes. She hadn’t properly removed her makeup last night, what with sleeping in the hospital. She didn’t want to think what she looked like. 

When she was done, folding the tissue carefully between her fingers, Henry launched himself at her and threw his arms around her without another word. His chest hit hers, skinny arms squeezing her so tight. Immediately, her chest flooded with warmth. His feathery brown hair was in her face. He smelled like home, and family. _Pathetic_. She should be the one comforting him. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a whole world better every time he squeezed her tighter. 

After a long time, Henry finally spoke, words muffled slightly by his shoulder. “What happened?”

Regina exhaled heavily, fingers toying soothingly through his hair. “She got scared. And I got mad.”

Henry just stared at her with those big brown eyes. “But I thought love wasn’t scary or mad.”

“Oh, Henry,” Regina sighed, holding him tighter. “Love is _everything_.” 

They stayed there on the floor for a long time, mother and son wrapped up in each others arms, sharing their loss. Together, they’d made it through Robin and the divorce and the move, and together, she supposed, they’d make it through this too. She just _wished_ they didn’t have to. 

The rest of the day passed in a dull blur. Henry barely left her side all day – he helped her cook, and covered her over with a blanket when they settled down to watch crappy TV together. The pain in her chest dulled to an ache. It felt like there was a weight inside of her, something heavy and hollow. He brought her tissues too, and before she knew it the sky outside was dark and she was sitting on the side of his bed to say goodnight, watching his space lamp swirl starry patterns over the walls. 

Regina brushed back a few stray strands of brown hair from his forehead. He looked tired – it was past his bedtime, really – but still wore the same look of disappointed confusion he’d had all day. 

“Do you want a story from your book?” Regina asked, trying to cheer him up. “What about your favourite? The one with the saviour and the queen?”

“No. I just want to go to sleep.” Henry said, huffing heavily so that his bottom lip stuck out for a second, like it did when he was a toddler and throwing a tantrum about something. His thin eyebrows furrowed together slightly. “I don’t think I like that story anymore.”

Regina’s heart sunk down even further in her chest. 

“Okay,” She said gently, fingers stroking over his forehead still. “I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I love you too.” Henry mumbled, sleepy and lost. 

Regina held back her sigh, instead leaning down to brush a soft kiss on her son’s forehead and standing up to tuck the covers tightly over him. She lingered in the doorway after she turned out the main light, looking at his small figure for a while before going out into the hall. 

Regina closed the door behind her, Henry’s room sign rattling against the wood. Hand still grasping the doorknob, she released a long sigh, letting herself lean back against the wall for a minute and close her eyes. 

After a long time she opened them, releasing the doorknob and running a hand through her hair. She’d meant to go straight to bed after putting Henry to sleep, but before she knew it, her feet were carrying her over the hallway carpet and down the stairs. She pushed the door to the den open with a soft creak of hinges, stepping inside quietly as she could. Inside, the room was awash with pale moonlight where she’d left the curtains open. 

Without thinking, Regina found herself walking past the couch. She bent down to pick up the fallen blanket, folding it back over the arm of the sofa. Under the shadowy windowsill, she could see the crumpled photograph lying on the carpet. She picked it up softly, as if in a dream. As she unfolded it with careful fingers, the ache in her chest and the lump in her throat seemed to grow, but she couldn’t stop. 

Regina stared down at the crumpled picture in the darkness, feeling the press of tears building behind her eyes as they studied the photograph. Despite the white cracks and creases mapping the card like broken glass, the image was still clear, and the photograph glimmered in the moonlight. She brushed a thumb absently over the ruined photo.

Inside the picture, Emma’s grinning face looked out at her, green eyes sparkling with laughter, cheeks dimpling as she teased Henry about something. Regina’s own face was partially obscured by her hair, but she could see her past smile under the white cracks and lines. She traced a finger down the crease between them. 

Abruptly, Regina turned and found herself hurrying back up the stairs towards her bedroom. Inside, she knelt before the drawers under her vanity, and slipped the photograph inside without a second glance at it. She closed the drawer, and made herself sit down on the end of the bed when the world started to blur. 

Blinking away the tears, Regina drew back the covers and turned away from the drawer. 

She doubted she’d open it again.


	30. Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of angst, I promise (sort of). 
> 
> Very soon we’ll be embarking on the last and biggest plotline of this thing, and hopefully it will make all of this worth it. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading, supporting, and sticking with me even when I’m not very nice to you.

As February pushed into March and the first windy hints of spring crept into the fresh Maine air, Emma Swan readjusted to life without Regina. 

Or tried, at least. 

She was discharged from the hospital the two days after it happened, with a fresh set of medication and a wound that none of it could touch. Everything after Regina left seemed like something out of a dream. Like none of it was even real. She tried to remember, but it kept slipping away. 

Her parents showed up maybe an hour after. They’d both seemed confused as to why Regina wasn’t there. Emma had to explain. She didn’t cry – there was a weird tight lump in her throat and a pounding in her head but she spoke the words numbly, without so much as a quiver in her voice. 

She went home. Life went on.

David cooked breakfast and cracked bad jokes even he couldn’t laugh at. Mary Margaret made tea and weeded the garden. The daffodils were coming into flower again outside her bedroom window, bright yellow heads bobbing in the breeze. There were always birds in the sky, hopping around the feeders. The tree at the end of the garden was starting to bud. They installed a ventilator at the annex. She hadn’t used it yet, no matter how hard it was to breathe. That was a different problem. 

Emma went back to work – sort of. She was on a part time contract. Mostly, she just sat around the sheriff’s station filing reports through the voice command on the computer. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would have a few weeks ago.   
It felt _good_ , sure. There were times she sat there and she almost felt normal, strong and ordinary and in control again. She could throw herself into the work, get distracted for a few hours. And there were times she couldn’t. 

But that was about something else entirely. Something she _couldn’t_ get rid of with a few pills and a trip to Dr. Whale’s. 

Emma hadn’t seen her in weeks, but Regina was _everywhere_ she looked. 

When she looked out the window as she and her dad drove to work, she’d pass the jewellery store off Main Street and remember laughing in the rain after they bought her mom her birthday present. When her mom bought tea out to the annex she got a weird empty feeling in the pit of her stomach and it tasted like nothing, because Regina used to do that. When she tried to watch TV, all she could think of was Regina grabbing her hand when they watched that movie. 

When she went to sleep at night, the side of the bed that belonged to Regina was cold. 

God, the nights were the worst. Emma rarely slept, instead laying on her back in the dark and staring at the ceiling til morning. Sometimes she fell into a leaden, dreamless sleep and woke more tired than she was before. Still, that was better than when she did dream. When she dreamed, she remembered. 

Regina, cutting her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Regina, crying in the Christmas lights with snow in her hair, because she was happy. Regina, laughing. Regina, rolling her eyes. Sleeping on her chest, touching her hair, letting down her walls, dancing with her and making everything else go away. Regina, smiling. Regina; coming in through the cracks every time she let her guard down. Regina, leaving. Regina, hurt. _Because of me_.

She tried to tell herself it was for the best, that she’d have only been more hurt if she’d stayed with her. She tried. But sometimes she couldn’t help wondering... _Whatever._

Most of all, she wondered if Regina missed her like she missed Regina. Emma sighed, staring at the empty space on the windowsill where the picture of the two of them at the Christmas fair used to stand. She hoped not. 

Most of her, at least, hoped not. 

Time passed.

-0-

Regina stared at the swarm of children pushing through the school gates, trying to pick out Henry’s back against the crowd. She thought she saw a flash of his grey and red striped scarf beside the jungle gym. A faint smile appeared on her lips for a second before she turned back down the street, heading for home. 

Although it was a Tuesday, dropping Henry off at school was technically the last thing on Regina’s to-do list. She’d mailed Mary Margaret her formal letter of resignation as her a couple of days after it happened. She’d done a couple of interviews for a management position at one of the two banking firms in Storybrooke, but she didn’t start for a couple of days. 

She tugged her coat tighter around herself, keeping her eyes on the pavement. It was a nice day, really. Bright blue sky. Sunlight. It was getting warmer, piece by piece. 

Back at home she’d get a head start on figuring out what was wrong with the dryer. She told herself it was good, this strange empty impasse she’d been in. It gave her time to get everything done that she’d been putting off, and get back to herself. Between Robin and Emma, she hadn’t done a lot of that recently. 

Still, Regina couldn’t help feeling like she was only drifting further away. A warm breeze carded through the budding trees beside the road, blowing back stray strands of dark hair from her face. She really needed to get that cut soon. 

She was doing better, she was. Wasn’t she? She was sleeping again, after all. All it had taken was a new eye mask and a prescription. Not that it did a great deal. It seemed that it didn’t matter how much she slept lately: she always felt tired. 

Especially this morning – it was a wonder she’d gotten Henry to school on time. Regina nearly missed the alarm, something that hadn’t happened since she was nineteen, and fumbled through getting him ready in a daze. It was like that a lot recently. She knew what her mother would say. She could practically hear her voice in her head. _That little nothing gets tired of you and you lose all ability to function as a mother. Ridiculous._

God. Where had that come from? 

She needed a coffee. 

Regina abruptly rounded the corner, taking a brief detour onto the sunlit Main Street. Squinting in the sudden glaring light, she hurried over the pavement and up past the tables outside Granny’s, still stacked up on top of each other from the night before. 

Regina kept her head down as she pushed through the steamed up door into the warmth of the diner, ignoring the way the little bell above the door jingled. If people were looking at her, she couldn’t tell. That was the thing about a town as small and sleepy as Storybrooke – it seemed that everyone knew your personal business before you did. 

She sighed, pushing past empty tables up to the counter, where a surly teenage barista was wiping down the surface. There was no queue. Regina cleared her throat. “I’ll take a coffee to go please. Black.” 

She was just fishing her purse out from her bag when she had the sudden feeling of being watched. Brows knitting slightly together, Regina glanced up across the half-empty diner and found herself staring right into the eyes of one Ruby Lucas. 

_Damn it._

Her heart dropped – she didn’t need to be dealing with Emma’s friends right now. Distractedly, Regina turned back to the girl behind the counter, praying Ruby wouldn’t come up and try and talk with her. It’d be better for both of them to just act like –

“Regina?”

_Too late_. 

She sighed, turning around from the counter and mustering the best attempt at a smile she could manage. “Miss Lucas.”

“Regina, hi,” Ruby flashed a smile that looked as fake as her own. She was drumming her bitten-down red nails against the counter anxiously, shifting in her heels. She paused, big eyes bright with sunlight and fixed on hers. “How are you?”

“I’m... Fine.” Regina managed, forcing her voice to stay flat and level. She raised an eyebrow politely. “And you?”

“Um, good, yeah,” Ruby shot a distracted look over at the storeroom door, presumably where her granny was working, and then back at 

Regina with a hopeful half-smile. “Look, Regina, can I talk to you for a second?”

“I believe you already are.”

Ruby breathed in, brows knitting together slightly as she hid her wince. “About Emma.”

“No.” The word was out of Regina’s mouth before she could think. Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, she fixed her eyes on the door. Her heart was pounding. “I have to go.”

“No, wait –”

“I have to go,” She repeated, unable to think anything else. She ducked her head as she wove between tightly-pressed tables, head spinning. _Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop._

“Wait, Regina!” A hand grasped her wrist, holding tight. 

Regina spun around, wishing this silly girl would just leave her alone. “What?” She demanded, trying to pretend she wasn’t fighting back tears. Her voice was harsher than she intended. “I have to leave –”

“She loves you.” Ruby breathed, suddenly face to face with her. The waitress’ eyes were fixed firmly on hers, brow twisting anxiously. After a second, she released her grip on Regina’s arm. She blinked, as if making sure she was still there. “Emma. She loves you so much, Regina – I don’t know _what_ she told you but –”

“Please,” Regina managed, barely audible around the sudden lump in her throat. Everything she’d been crushing down inside her was rising up, choking her. She shook her head. “Don’t.” 

“No, Regina, she does. She loves you so fucking much it’s unreal, and you need to hear that because she’s convinced herself cutting you off is the best thing for both of you but –”

“I’m not doing this,” Regina managed, somehow. Her voice sounded foreign in her own ears. The old-fashioned décor of the diner was swimming in front of her. She shook her head, blinking down at herself. “I can’t do this.” 

“Wait, Regina, please –”

Coffee forgotten, Regina spun around on her heels and hurried towards the door as fast as she could, weaving between tables and chairs. She could hear Ruby calling to her as she pushed out the door, the little bell jingling overhead as if nothing was wrong, as if, as if, as if –

Outside, the air was fresh and clean and Regina forced herself to breathe in and out slowly, despite the lingering nausea in her stomach. Ruby’s voice was echoing around her head. _She loves you, she loves you, she loves you._

_Well_ , Regina thought, that was never the problem, was it? 

She spent the rest of the walk home firmly reminding herself that she was Regina Mills, and she was not about to cry in public because of some waitress who didn’t know to mind her own business. 

The next thing she knew she was stalking up her front garden to the porch, fumbling hard with the key in the lock. Inside, she swung the door shut hard behind her and hurled the key into the bowl. It made a pathetic sort of clinking noise. 

“Ugh!” Regina made a noise somewhere between an enraged shout and a frustrated huff. _Every time_ she thought she was getting somewhere. She sighed, stripping off her coat with impatient hands. _Every time!_

Instead of fixing her own coffee or starting work on the dryer or the forms for her new job, Regina found herself collapsing on the sofa in the living room and staring out the window, watching a bird fly aimlessly around the sky. 

Because the truth was, she had a lot of practise in making herself look fine when she wasn’t. A thousand times, she’d done it. But this time... 

_God, this time..._

It was like flipping a coin every morning whether she’d wake up heartbroken or furious. The sad days were awful, the angry ones worse. And the nights, sandwiched in between, were the hardest of all. There were moments she thought she was doing fine and then something like this happened and sent her right back to square one. 

_Damn it_. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut tight and letting her head fall back against the cushions. _Damn it._ This was all so ridiculous. She felt like she was eighteen again. The first few days after Emma broke up with her, of course she was entitled to indulge in misery, cry herself out, sit around staring into space with an almost physical ache in her chest. But it had been weeks now, and none of that was going away. 

Maybe it was because she knew Emma’s self-loathing better than anyone – like a mirror, really – and she was constantly worrying about whether or not she was okay. Maybe it was because it was the first real thing she’d felt since Robin. Maybe it was nothing to do with any of that and she was just a mess. 

She should have asked Ruby how Emma was doing. It would have made her feel better to know she, at least, was moving on with her life. Instead, all she could do was wonder and speculate and miss her. 

Because the truth was, it _fucking_ hurt. It _still fucking hurt._

Regina let out a long, slow sigh and glanced at the clock. It was going to be a long day. 

Still, she threw herself into everything she had to do, forcing herself to be distracted. She finished the forms for the bank, called the plumber, cleaned, vacuumed, spent a couple of hours baking an unnecessary batch of cookies for Henry. Everything that had always helped her avoid her problems. 

She didn’t end up facing them again until later that evening, when she and Henry had taken up their usual position either side of the couch, slipper-socked feet meeting in the middle, blanket strewn across both of them. Henry had been reading a comic book, Regina talking wedding decorations over the phone with Kathryn. Outside the window, the sky was turning purple and pink, the first pinprick stars appearing amongst the fiery clouds. 

Having settled on lilies and closed the conversation for the night, Regina was about to open her book when Henry caught her eye, small face tired and confused. “Mom?” he asked, his voice small and sleepy. He stared over at her, brows knitting together in concentration. “Why do people stop loving people?”

Regina stared up from her book, suddenly filled with what Kathryn once called her ‘mama bear mode’ – the sheer overwhelming urge to fight tooth and nail to protect her son. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” She leaned closer across the couch to him, finding his eyes. “Nobody’s going to stop loving you.”

“Not _me._ ” Henry said, brow still furrowed. “ _Emma._ ” He paused, pouting slightly. “Why did you stop loving each other?”

“Henry...” Regina swallowed. There was a deep ache in her chest, and suddenly she felt as if she was going to cry. “We didn’t... _stop_ loving each other.”

She paused, taking a moment to glance out the window. The pink light of sunset spilled in through the glass, washing over the sofa cushions and her son’s hair. Regina found his eyes, considering the right way to talk about all of this. Maybe there wasn’t a right way. 

“That’s how it works sometimes.” Regina explained. “Like your father and I. We fell in love very young and we were together so long, somewhere along the line the magic faded out. But that doesn’t _always_ happen. It just means... We were only meant to have that much time together, and it was nice. But we weren’t meant to have any longer.”

“I’m not asking about Dad.” Henry told her, fingers playing with the frayed edge of the blanket. “I’m asking about Emma.”

_That’s what I was afraid of._

Regina willed herself not to break down again, forced her voice to stay level. “Emma and I...”

“You said you didn’t stop loving each other,” Henry pointed out. “But I don’t get it. That means you still love each other, but you’re not a couple and you’re both just sad.” His wide hazel eyes, full of fading light, found hers. “I don’t get why.”

“Henry,” Regina was at a loss for words. “Where is this coming from?”

“You’re sad today.” Henry told her, part matter-of-fact, part upset. “And it’s because of Emma.” 

“It’s not _because_ of Emma,” Regina insisted instinctively. The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them: she’d spent the better part of ten years lying to her son about Robin. She wasn’t about to spent the next ten lying about Emma. 

She sighed, shifting forward over the sofa cushions to take Henry’s hands in her own, blankets tangling around her lap. “Look, Henry,” Regina began. “Emma and I didn’t separate because we stopped loving each other. The opposite, actually.”

Henry scrunched his nose in confusion. “The opposite?”

“Emma and I loved each other so much it...” Regina breathed in, flipping her hair back over her shoulders and looking directly to Henry’s eyes. “You know how Emma was in hospital?” 

Henry nodded. 

“And I dropped everything to go and see her, because I loved her.” Regina paused, breathed in. “Well, she thought that because there’s no – _cure_ – to her condition, she’d keep having to go into the hospital and I’d keep having to come and see her and that wouldn’t be fair. That’s what she thought. And she didn’t want to do that to me because –” Suddenly, the words were sticking in her throat. “Because...”

“Because she loved you.” Henry finished, voice very small. 

Regina nodded, breathing in sharply. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. “I told her none of that mattered to me but she did what she felt was right to her.” 

“So she did what she _thought_ was right,” Henry repeated, trying to make sense of it all. “But it wasn’t right.”

“It’s complicated, I know,” Regina said softly, thumb absently stroking circles on Henry’s palm. “Sometimes it’s not about right and wrong. Sometimes it’s just about people, and the things they feel.”

Henry didn’t say anything for a long time, clearly trying to process everything he’d just heard. Regina studied him, not letting go of his hand. After a while he finally looked back at her. 

“I think she’s sad too.” Henry confessed. 

“Maybe.” Regina agreed. 

She sighed – she didn’t want to think about that too much. She’d done enough of that the first two weeks. And she didn’t want to let Henry get too deep in it either: she’d done enough of that with Robin. 

Pushing the blanket off her lap, Regina stood up abruptly off the sofa, reaching out a hand to Henry. “Now come on,” she smiled. “What d you say to coming and helping me with a batch of apple turnovers?” 

A half-hearted smile came over Henry’s face at the proposition, and he set his comic book aside carefully before throwing back the blanket and jumping up to follow her to the kitchen. So, on a whim, Regina ended up teaching Henry to roll pastry while the sun went down outside. 

The minutes on the clock ticked by, turning day into night, but neither of them noticed – as Regina mixed and sieved and chopped and explained, watching Henry sprinkle sugar and turn the sticky pages of the recipe book, the pain in her chest didn’t quite vanish, but there was a feeling of lightness there too. Of hope. 

Henry laughed and cracked jokes as she explained what to do. Regina struggled to keep a straight face watching the concentration in his eyes and furrowed brow a he rolled out the pastry, his hands warm under hers on the rolling pin. The light outside faded and the warmth of the kitchen grew. 

When Henry spilled a handful of flour down her, she found herself laughing instead of being annoyed, even though she still sort of wanted to cry. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d scooped up a powdery handful herself and thrown it across the kitchen at him – it caught in his hair and his shirt, and Henry grinned so wide, snatching up more to throw at her, and the next thing either of them knew they were sitting on the kitchen floor, side by side against the cabinets as the turnovers cooked, flour and broken eggs and sugar strewn all across the tiled floor. 

There was flour in her hair too, and all down her sweater, and Henry had sugar sticking all over his shirt, bits of apple peel sticking to his cheek, and she was breathless and dizzy. Across the kitchen, the turnovers were baking in the red light of the oven. Regina reached out to wrap an arm around Henry’s skinny shoulders, pulling him close. His head dropped down onto her shoulder. There was a goofy grin on his face, and his eyes were bright. They sat there like that for a few minutes, breathing in and out of time. Then, quite suddenly, Henry twisted around to launch himself into her arms, hugging her tight. 

“See Henry,” Regina breathed, wrapping her arms tighter around him. She pulled him close. His hair smelled of flour and home. “It doesn’t matter who else loves us or leaves us, because we’re always going to have each other, okay?”

“Okay,” Henry said, and when he pulled back from the hug, the smile on his face was wide and genuine. 

-0-

“Morning,” 

Emma glanced up from her desk at the sound of Graham’s familiar Irish voice, and his boots on the floor of the sheriff’s station. She conjured a pretty convincing smile. “Morning.”

“How are we all today?” Graham asked. She was the only one in the room. 

“Sick of all these state reports,” Emma joked. “But I’ll survive.”

“That’s the spirit.” Graham flashed a white smile. He was leaning against the doorway, leather jacket unzipped over his shirt, and holding a polystyrene cup in each hand. Where’s David?” The other cop asked, thick brows drawing together slightly. He held up one of the cups. “I got him a coffee.” 

“He had to go out and check on florists again.” Emma explained. “They think they had another break in.” She raised her eyebrows towards the coffee cup. “But if you give me his coffee I won’t tell him you were half an hour late.”

“Deal.” Graham gave a smile and shook his head, drawing up a chair at his own desk. It was pushed up against hers now, their computers pretty much back to back. Apparently the Storybrooke force had redecorated since she was deputy. He slid the coffee across to her. “Where’s your thing?”

“Round here. Top drawer.” By _thing_ , she assumed he meant her hands-free. 

Graham came back around to her side, pulling open the drawer and retrieving the hands free drinking system. He clipped it onto the cup with ease. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” Emma said. She wasn’t technically supposed to clutter up her desk with unnecessary crap, but sometimes she needed a coffee or a hot cocoa at work. The perks of having your dad as your boss. 

She narrowed her eyes, turning back to the computer. The window behind Graham was open, and the sunlight was so bright it was jarring. She could barely see the screen. Still, once they got down to work, station filled with the steady monotonous noise of Graham’s keyboard tapping and pencil scratching, and Emma dully speaking into the voice command, it was kind of... Not _nice_ , but not awful. 

She was glad to have Graham back in her life. He and Emma were pretty good friends once, before the accident. He was a nice guy, good to work with, and a damn good cop too. He was kind of collateral damage from her fall out with Ruby. Now she had them both back, and her parents. That was good, right? 

Emma blinked at the bright screen, the empty case report waiting to be filed back to the big guys in Lewiston. It was weird how much she had to keep reminding herself what was good lately. Like she was trying anything to keep from admitting she felt almost as empty as she had two years ago, when all she did was sit in her room and snap at nothing. 

It was weird, the effect one person could have. 

Nearly two months had gone by without her laying an eye on Regina, and she still had her moments. It hurt a lot at the start, but now it had sunk in she realised the worst kind of hurt was when you weren’t expecting it.

Emma didn’t think about her all that much anymore. Or maybe she was just distracted enough that it all just got pushed to the back of her mind. Or maybe she just got used to it, and those thoughts and memories were just like a white noise machine. 

Whatever – the point was, Emma had stopped trying to bring her back. She only came back when she felt like it, in classical music and car windows. Sometimes she caught sight of a woman with dark hair and high heels on the street and her heart nearly stopped, but then she’d turn around and she’d be the girl from the grocery store, or some stranger she didn’t know. 

_Then again_ , Emma thought, _what’s different there?_

It didn’t really hit her until those mornings she woke up from a dream still half-expecting to see Regina lying next to her, or the nights she’d lay awake checking her phone to find there was nothing there. Or when she passed Regina’s street, or Henry’s school, and the faint notion that their lives were going on without her hit home a little too hard. 

The rest of the time she was just... Blank. That was a good thing, right? Emma didn’t know. _I guess this is moving on._

Her dad came back in at lunch time - he’d picked up the daily special at Granny’s (soup today), and they all sat around the office listening for reports on the crackly radio and discussing the latest developments on TV. Before he started up work again, David made a round collecting the empty takeaway cartons, and he paused beside her desk when he took hers. 

Emma glanced up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Do me a favour and don’t tell your mom about the soup.” David told her, stacking her empty cup in his. “She’s cooking tonight. Says we haven’t had a family meal in ages.”

“Really?” Emma tried not to make a face. “I was kind of thinking I might just stay in the annex tonight. Catch up with...” _Nothing_. 

“Oh.” David, to his credit, managed to disguise the way his face fell pretty quickly. His voice, however, gave him away – strained and weirdly tight. Still, he tried to smile, blue eyes crinkling in the sunlight. “Well, I’m sure that’s fine too. I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks,” Emma said. There was the same uncomfortable churning feeling in her stomach as there was the first time she pushed them away. She was thankful when he had to go out patrol in the afternoon, once again leaving her and Graham to work away in companionable quiet. 

The rest of the day passed as most of her days did – quietly and unremarkably. The sky outside the window was bright blue, scattered with picturesque white clouds, but it might as well have been grey. Emma didn’t make any further attempts at conversation. 

“Well, I’ll see you Friday.” Graham nodded when he’d finished up for the day, tossing his car keys in the air and catching them with a soft clink. He nodded. “Happy filing.”

“See you round,”

Emma shot a glance at him as he left the room, just waiting for the door to swing shut behind him. She wasn’t sure why. It was just tiring being around people so much lately. Once she heard his car engine rumble to life and grow fainter as he drove off, Emma gave a small sigh of relief. 

With only the ticking clock on the station wall for company, she carried on filing and ordering, until her eyes fell on her phone. It was lying on the desk beside her. The lock screen, which had previously been a blurry photo of a woman with dark hair and a scar above her lip, was blank. She swallowed. 

There was no one else in the office, but it still took her a while to get up the courage to use the voice command. “Hey, Siri.” She managed. “Message Regina Mills.”

“Say... I miss you.” Suddenly the words were all bunching up in Emma’s head like cut wire, and there were tears burning in her eyes and she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t say anything else because those three words were all there was. She swallowed. 

“ _Do you want to send this message to Regina Mills?_ ”

“No,” Emma choked out, almost laughing at herself. God, this was stupid. “Of course I fucking don’t. Delete message.”

“ _Message deleted_.” The mechanical little voice confirmed. “ _Is there anything else you want to do?_ ” 

“There’s a question.” Emma managed, voice hoarse. She swallowed hard. She put the whole thing from her mind. And she got back to work. 

It was weird. She’d been wishing so hard these last few weeks to finally just stop thinking about Regina, and now she finally had... _It doesn’t matter_. 

Emma turned back to the computer, frowning at the report on screen. 

-0-

She was brushing her teeth before work when the message flashed onto her phone screen, vibrating on the little stand next to the sink. Regina frowned, spitting out her toothpaste and rinsing before turning her attention to the message. 

Regina reached for her phone, unlocking it and sliding open her new message. Kathryn. It was the dates for her bridal shower and rehearsal dinner: both thankfully weren’t for a couple of months yet. Regina was glad. She didn’t want to let Kathryn down after all she’d done for her, but honestly? She didn’t think she could handle that kind of social situation right now. 

As she tapped exit on her conversation with Kathryn, Regina’s eye caught on another name, further up on her list of contacts and her heart sped up a little against her chest. _Emma Swan_. The last message she’d sent her was four weeks ago now. Breath soft and slow, she opened up the conversation, staring blankly for a few minutes at the meaningless words on screen, the tiny, smiling contact picture up in the corner. 

She tapped the text bubble at the bottom, staring at the empty space, the keyboard, just waiting. She could type anything. She could send anything. She could...

Regina exited the message, clicking her phone locked with a sigh and setting it back on the stand. 

-0-

So the world kept turning.

March turned into April, and spring began to settle truly into Storybrooke, melting frost and adding the first hint of green to the bare trees lining the streets. Henry won a certificate for hard work at school. Regina started her new job at the back – it was oddly reminiscent of Portland. Emma went to work and ignored her friends phone calls. 

And somehow, despite how small and claustrophobic Storybrooke could be, they didn’t bumped into each other once as the days went by. In fact, there was no contact at all. For a while. 

It had been almost two months since the break up when it happened. 

Regina sat at her computer desk in her study, turning the monitor on and clicking open her emails. After the screen loaded, she scanned the new messages with little interest – spam mostly, a seating plan for Kathryn and Frederick’s wedding, a coupon for Caravaggio’s Italian, and then – her breath caught in her throat. 

There, at the top of her inbox, was something she’d hoped to never see again. 

_1 new email from Dr V. Whale, SCI Unit, Storybrooke Hospital._

Heart beginning to pound harder inside her chest, Regina had no choice but to click it open. The hospital clearly hadn’t got the memo that she was off the contact list. Without even giving herself time to panic or pray, she started to read, breath caught in her throat. As she scanned the words on the screen, her heart thumped faster and faster, until she was finished and she could barely breathe. 

With shaking hands, she exited the email site and drew back her chair, almost stumbling in her haste to get up. Regina hurried to the door, grabbing keys and phone and hastily putting on her coat. Before she had even fully registered what she’d just read, she was out the door, and she knew where she was headed. 

“Mary Margaret?” Regina breathed, after her clumsy fingers had dialled. She didn’t give her time to answer. “I’m coming over.”


	31. The Email

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh! Several conflicting ideas what was in the email, but hopefully this chapter gives you all you need to know. 
> 
> Sorry this is such a short fillery one but I’m really busy at the minute and I wanted to get something posted this week to put your minds at ease after that cliffhanger. Next chapter will be much more meaty and satisfying, and Henry will be starring, promise. 
> 
> Again, thank you all for hanging on and reading in the first place!

Regina didn’t remember walking to the mayor’s house, but the next thing she knew she was standing on the front doorstep, shivering slightly as the spring breeze wound through her hair. Her heart was beating so hard she could practically hear it. 

It felt strange to ring the doorbell after letting herself in with her key so many times, she realised faintly. The front garden was different – dotted with colour as the flowers came through. It took a moment before the door opened to reveal David Nolan standing against the doorframe with a look of confusion on his face. His plaid shirt needed an iron, and the sun glared off the Sheriff’s badge clipped to his belt. 

“Regina,” David stated, seemingly confused. There was a slight furrow between his brows. “You – What are you doing here?”

“I got the email.” Regina stated.

“Oh,” David nodded, swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His blue eyes were filled with a sudden new understanding. “ _Oh_.” He hesitated. He seemed unsure whether or not to let her in. After a while, he jerked his head back, motioning her to follow him. “I think you’d better come inside.” 

Regina tucked a dark wave of hair behind her ear and followed David into the warmth of the foyer, feeling increasingly like a trespasser, or someone crossing enemy lines. She breathed in and steeled herself. God, what was she doing here? As her heels clicked on the polished foyer floor, she took in the familiar room around her, heart thumping. 

While she forced her breathing to slow back down to normal, a sudden flurry of footsteps and a flash of blue cardigan rounded the corner. “David, can you –” Mary Margaret stopped abruptly when she saw the woman standing behind her husband. “Regina,” She stared, confused. “What are you...”

Regina breathed in. Her mind wasn’t working right – it hadn’t been since she’d read the words. All she could think, all she knew was that she _had_ to get to Emma. She swallowed, repeating the words she told David. “I got the email.”

David and Mary Margaret exchanged a look. Mary Margaret turned back to Regina, mouth open, green eyes wide and clearly debating something. “Right. Of course.”

Regina stepped closer, suddenly filled with a new desperation. “Can I see her?” 

It was David that answered, still standing behind her with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. “She’s out back.” His voice was earnest and resigned. 

“Thank you,” Regina managed, nodding in gratitude. 

She headed for the back door, but she’d barely taken a few steps before Mary Margaret’s hand caught her arm lightly. “Wait, Regina.” The older woman’s eyes were full of caution and something else. Something caring. She stepped in front of her, lowering her hand gently. “You should know that we’ve been aware of the situation for a couple of days now and...”

“What?”

Mary Margaret sighed. “She doesn’t want to hear about it.”

“ _What?_ ” Regina stared. 

“She’s not interested.” Mary Margaret continued apologetically. “We’ve tried, Regina, believe me, we have tried. She won’t hear it.” 

“All due respect, Mary Margaret, but I’m not you.” Regina glanced between husband and wife. “When you hired me to be her carer you told me she wouldn’t talk back to me because we’re not related.” She turned back to Mary Margaret with a hopeful smile. “At least let me try.” 

“Of course.” Mary Margaret nodded, managing a smile back. After a second, her expression softened. “And Regina? It’s good to see you.” With that she pulled her into a quick hug that smelled of flowery perfume and took her right back to the hospital. Still, when the older woman released her, Regina felt infinitely stronger. _I needed that._

“You too,” She assured her, as she headed for the back door. “Thank you.” 

Then it was just a brisk walk down the back garden, coat pulled tight against the cool spring breeze, and then Regina’s hand was closing around the doorknob to the annex and pushing inside. Inside, she was met with silence. Thick, pulsing silence. As always, her heels clicked against the polished hardwood floor of the corridor. 

Heart pounding, she followed the steps she’d taken a thousand times to Emma’s bedroom as if in a dream. Her breath caught in her throat when she approached the door. Briefly, she wondered if she should knock. She should probably knock. She hadn’t knocked since the first time she was in here. She lifted her hand tentatively, raising it to the wood and rapping her knuckles lightly a couple of times. 

“Yeah?” Emma’s half-annoyed voice carried through from inside. 

_Well, no point stalling_. Regina breathed in, braced herself and twisted the doorknob. She stepped inside the room slowly. Her shoes clicked on the floor. Inside, the room looked the same as ever, curtains pulled half-open to let in the sunlight. Emma’s chair was facing the TV. She was wearing a white sweatshirt and jeans, and her hair needed a trim, falling loose over her shoulders, turning to gold where the sun hit it. 

Regina took a step further inside, breath caught in her throat. Her heart wasn’t racing – it was slow, heavy, saturated with the past. She cleared her throat. Loudly. 

“Yeah, what –” Emma’s face fell as she finally saw her. Her green eyes were wide and startled, lips parted in shock, yellow light slanting over her pale skin. “Regina,”

“Hey,” Regina heard herself say, although all she was thinking was how much she’d _missed_ seeing this woman’s face and how tight her throat was suddenly. 

The air settled around them like dust, still and silent, heavy with words unsaid and things undone. They were quiet for a long time. 

“You got a haircut.” Emma said, stupidly. 

“Oh,” Regina touched her hair distractedly. “Yes.” She’d gotten frustrated last month and scheduled an appointment to get it back to how it was a couple of years ago – it just brushed her collarbones. She looked over at Emma, not sure what to say. “You didn’t.”

“Nope,” Emma shook her head awkwardly.

Her heart was pounding hard inside her chest. It was one of the times she could almost find a silver lining to being stuck inside her chair – if she wasn’t, she’d probably be freaking out right now. Tripping over something. Instead, Emma was forced to confront her problem head on, unable to turn away from the woman facing her down. 

A moment passed, and then another, until it was clear they were going to have a second awkward silence. 

Emma made the most of it - she took the time to study Regina a little closer. There was only a small gap in the curtains, but it was midday outside and the sun was at its peak. A wedge of light fell across the floor between them, picked out gold in Regina’s dark hair. She was so beautiful. Emma had started to think her rose-tinted memory might have made her more beautiful than she really was, but that was bullshit. Standing with her red lips pressed tight together and worry playing behind her brown eyes, she was so beautiful and so _Regina_ it made Emma's head hurt. She wasn't prepared for this, she wasn't... But Regina didn't look like she was either The brunette was just standing there, staring at her, arms folded tight over her chest. 

For a moment, it was like she’d never left. _But she did. Because you made her, because it was better for both of you and for her kid_ , Emma reminded herself firmly. Still... 

“Emma –” Regina took an unsure step forward, speaking almost the same time she did. 

“Regina –” Emma winced at the collision. She waited a second, eyes flickering up to meet Regina’s until it was clear she was going to let her speak. She breathed in, and willed herself to be brave enough. “I don’t mean to be rude but... What are you doing here?” Emma asked. And then, because she couldn’t stop herself – “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” Regina countered smoothly, raising an eyebrow. Still, her voice was somehow soft and hesitant. 

Emma managed to muster a smile. “I guess.”

Regina’s eyes found hers, wide and full of concern. She just looked at her for a few moments, studying. And in the silence that followed, Emma suddenly knew why she was here. _God_. Something sunk inside her chest like a stone. _Here we go again._

Still, she wasn’t disappointed when Regina looked at her and asked, gently, “Can I sit down a second?”

Emma nodded reluctantly, clumsily finding the wheelchair buttons to manoeuver herself over by the bed. Regina stepped closer and sat down gingerly on the bed beside her. She breathed in deep and turned her head to try and catch Emma’s eye. “So I heard about this operation.”

Emma swallowed. “I figured.” 

Regina’s voice was soft, undemanding. “Are you going to go through with it?”

“I don’t know.” Emma sighed. “Maybe.” She waited, a second, two. “Probably not.” 

Something heavy collapsed in Regina's chest. “ _Emma_.”

“Come on, Regina, don’t you start.”

Emma gave her a look, silently telling her everything she’d missed the last few months. It was weird – every day since, she’d missed Regina so fervently, so _palpably_ it was almost a physical ache, and every hour without her felt like a week. She’d been so scared of running into her somewhere: Storybrooke was a small town after all. But now she was right here in front of her it almost felt like she’d never left. Maybe she hadn’t, where it really mattered. 

It felt like... Like she’d been fooling herself thinking they’d ever be apart too long. Like they’d just slipped back into their old rhythms without so much as a tear or a hitched breath. She didn’t feel panicky or angry or upset like she thought she would. It almost felt like it had the first few weeks Regina worked as her carer. A little slow, a little awkward, but for the most part _nice_ and natural. 

She’d missed this. 

Even if the circumstances were... _Less than favourable._

“Give me _one_ good reason not to do it.” Regina stated, giving Emma that look that meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Emma had missed that look, too. Still, she had to stand her ground. “There’s a _thirty_ percent chance of success!” She reminded her, and shook her head. “It’s not going to work, so what’s the point? I’ll just put myself through more shit for no reason.”

“That sounds a lot like the Emma I first met.” Regina said honestly, dark eyes seeking green. “If there’s even a one percent chance it could work that’s a reason to do it. You never know.”

“Yeah, but even if it does work I might not ever be able to move again anyway.” Emma told her. “You know that, right? There’s a pretty high chance all this is gonna do is waste my time and energy so I can wiggle my fingers a bit more than usual.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about. Do you have any more information about it?” Regina asked, tilting her head to try and catch Emma’s gaze. “The email _I_ got was pretty brief...”

“There’s a link you can follow on my phone.” Emma said, voice flat. “It’s in the notes. I haven’t looked at it yet.” 

“You don’t even have all the information,” Regina stated, shaking her head as she reached for Emma’s phone and opened up the notes app. 

Emma almost rolled her eyes. “The hospital called us about it.”

Regina shot her a look. “I’m reading it to you.” She raised her eyebrows, before turning back to Emma’s phone screen and opening up the link. It took a few seconds to load. “Right.” She scrolled down. “Potential developments in nerve transfer surgery.”

“See,” Emma interjected. “It’s an experimental program it’s not going to –”

“ _Shh_.” Regina shot her a look. “Will you let me read? I’m trying to help you.”

“Now _you_ sound like you’ve gone back to the first couple of weeks –”

“You fell in love with me after the first couple of weeks.” 

“Touché.” Emma muttered, trying to fight off a smile. “Fine. Just read and get it over with?”

“Okay.” Regina huffed, only pretending to be annoyed. She turned her focus back onto the website. “So. A pioneering surgical technique has restored a degree of hand and arm movement to patients immobilized by spinal cord injuries, reports a new study in New England. 

“The focus is on rerouting passageways. Surgeons redirect peripheral nerves in a quadriplegic’s hands and arms by connecting healthy nerves to the injured nerves. Essentially, the new network of nerves reintroduces conversion between the brain and the muscles. This means patients may once again independently perform everyday tasks, such as feeding themselves or writing with a pen.

“Physically, the nerve transfer operations give incremental improvements in hand and arm function. However, psychologically, these small steps can be huge for patients _quality of life_.”

Emma ignored the pointed look Regina shot her at that part. She’d heard all this before, from the doctor over the phone, but hearing it read in Regina’s smooth clear voice made it somehow more engaging. She doubted that was anything to do with the text – frankly, Regina could read her the phone book and she’d be on the edge of her seat. Well. Figuratively, at least. She tried to suppress a pained smile at the memory of Regina reading bad spy novels to her by the light of the sunset, sitting side by side on this same bed. 

Regina cleared her throat and carried on reading. “Because surgeons connect functioning nerves in the upper arms to a patients damaged nerves, the technique is most successful in patients with injuries at the level of C6 or C7 vertebra. The operation in these patients can be performed within four hours and most patients can go home the next morning.”

“Not me,” Emma coughed. 

“You’re such a child.” Regina rolled her eyes at her. “I’m getting there.” She frowned back down at Emma’s phone, eye scanning the screen to find her place. She cleared her throat. “ _However_ , in patients with further injuries at a C5 and further level, the surgery becomes more complicated and must be performed over two separate operations, two weeks apart. The success rate in these patients is also compromised, currently standing at thirty percent.”

Regina stopped reading for a second, face slightly fallen. 

“Gets worse.” Emma told her. “Go on, finish it.”

“C5 through C3 level patients cannot be guaranteed a successful result due to the pioneering nature of the surgery. As nerve function varies from patient to patient, not everyone is applicable to the surgery. Patients will have to undergo testing to determine whether or not to operation will work in their personal case.

“After the surgery is complete, patients go through physical therapy training the brain to recognise the new nerve signals, a process that can take up to eighteen months. The gains after surgery are not instant but once established, the surgery’s benefits provide a way to let individuals with spinal cord injuries improve their daily lives –”

“See!” Emma interjected. “It keeps going on about how small the outcome is, _especially_ for people like me.”

 _There are no people like you_ , Regina wanted to tell her. _Only you._

Instead, she breathed in, steeled herself and met Emma’s eyes again. “Well, will you at least get a consultation?”

“ _Regina_ ,” Emma whined.

“Seriously!” Regina clicked her phone off and set it back down on the side. Clearly, Emma was done with that now. After all, she’d heard everything she needed to hear. She bit back her frustration, finding Emma’s eyes, wide and sea-green. “If you _just_ go for a consultation Whale will tell you everything you need to know and then you can decide whether or not you’re going to go through with it.”

Emma stared back at her resolutely, their earlier banter given way to something more serious. She shook her head slightly, blowing a strand of blonde hair from her face. Her sea-green eyes were wide and steady. “I’ve already decided, Regina.” 

“Alright, well, it still can’t hurt to go and talk to someone about it.” Regina reasoned. 

There was something in her chest, some hope, some pain, some love, _something_ that refused to give up on this when she knew there was a chance it could help her. Ever since she’d first met Emma she’d been helpless. Now there was something she _could_ do for her and Emma was being completely stubborn. That was just like her. Regina fought off a painful smile. She’d missed that frustrating, irritating, godawful stubbornness.

Emma raised her head to talk, blonde hair catching the sunlight that streamed through the curtains. “Fine, I’ll think about a consultation. Nothing else. Can you drop it now?” She asked, eyes wide, obviously just to get her to stop talking about it.

“Okay well...” Regina’s face softened. Her chest fell as her breathing relaxed. She couldn't have stopped herself if she wanted to. “Will you tell me how you’ve been? I heard you went back to work.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. She glanced down at her hands for a second. “It’s okay, I guess. Just need to get used to it again. What about you?”

“I’ve been teaching Henry to bake.” Regina’s voice changed at the mention of her son, as it always had. Emma could see the hint of a smile playing on her lips, trying to finish. “The first time – we ended up having this honest-to-god _food fight_ , throwing flour and...” She gave Emma a look. “I was finding sugar all over the kitchen for days.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at the image. Something wedged deep in her chest started to ache, but it was a good ache. Cathartic. She braced herself. “How is the little nerd?”

“He’s... coming along.” Regina smiled, and her dark eyes found Emma’s. “Not seeing you hit him pretty hard.” She scrunched her nose, to show she was joking. “We sort of liked you.”

“Yeah well, you two weren’t so bad yourselves.” Emma replied, and then breathed in, wincing slightly. “Look, Regina...” She wet her lips anxiously. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I was an asshole. I’m sorry that I hurt you and Henry because that is the _last_ thing on earth I’d ever want.” Her gaze flickered up to Regina’s. “I’m _sorry_. But I just... can’t.”

“I understand.” Regina nodded. “And that’s okay. I won't push it.” She gave Emma a sidelong look, brown eyes contemplative. “But you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” 

Emma turned to her slowly, as if she was nervous of what would happen when she finally met her eye. And she was – all this time they’d been apart there had been an itch in her heart. She was scared to scratch it. She was scared of what might come bleeding out. 

But when her eyes found Regina’s – wide and brown and full of hope, eyelashes lit with golden light – she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Regina smiled back. It was just a small smile, but her eyes lit up and it went straight to Emma’s chest, and she knew then that Regina was right. 

She always was, after all.

The smile held, and the sunlight shone in through the crack.


	32. Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s up early because I’m going to be away this weekend and not able to post when I usually would, but I couldn’t leave you too long! So this one’s still a bit short and fillery but it’ll hold you over. I’ll be back next weekend as normal.
> 
> Okay, next thing I need to say is that while the operation in question is inspired by a real life story and surgery, I’ve totally fictionalised it for the purposes of my story. I’ve done my research but I am not a doctor or an expert, so don’t expect this all to be entirely realistic and without flaws, because I’m sure it’s not! 
> 
> As usual, big gratitude to all of you loving and supporting my little story!

In the days after Regina’s visit to the annex, Emma scarcely thought of anything else. 

She went to work, got coffee with Ruby, took her pills, ate dinner with her parents at the main house, all with a feeling of lightness in her chest and flashes of brown eyes and half-hearted smiles running like white noise in the back of her mind. 

Being apart from Regina had been like weaning herself off pills or something – and now she’d got another fix she was dizzy from it. Regina was back in her veins, and the truth was she didn’t want to get her out. She didn’t know when she’d see her again - she might be living off the fumes of that day for the rest of her life and it’d be worth it. 

It was her day off when the time eventually came to schedule an appointment with Doctor Whale discussing the potential surgery - or not, as was the most likely case. 

She woke up late, thankful it wasn’t an early nurses round today. They all knew about the proposed treatment, and, like everybody else in her life, wouldn’t shut up about it. 

It was infuriating, Emma thought, laying there half-asleep beneath the covers, watching a bird hop between the budding branches of the tree outside her window. It was her choice – _only_ hers. 

The truth was, she didn’t want to get her own hopes up, let alone everyone else’s. If she went through with it, the talks, the tests, the surgery, then everyone around her would be depending on it turning out right. _Including me_. 

If she went for the consultation, then she’d have to let herself think about all the things she hadn’t for years. About writing with a pen in her hands, doodling around the edge of the paper. About laughing, trying to use the chopsticks that came with the Chinese takeout. Clapping her moms mayoral speeches. Brushing her hair and tying it back in a ponytail whenever she felt like. Pumping weights. Holding hands. Holding something. Holding – 

It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t. Emma didn’t want to imagine her parents faces. Regina’s. How could she do that to herself, to them? How could she, after everything? 

No. There was no point setting herself up for more heartbreak. After all, she was doing fine as she was. She was working, she was seeing friends. She was fine. And that was all she needed to be. 

Exhaling slowly, Emma gave herself a few more minutes to watch the garden waking up behind her window. Daffodils were springing to life against the fence, and blossom was unfurling on the skinny tree branches. A bird hopped across the dewy lawn. Above, the sky was a cloud-spat blue, and the sun was already crawling high into the sky, beating down bright light through her half-open curtains. 

When her dad came to bring her to breakfast, Emma smiled and joked around with him and resolved not to think anymore about the operation.

That worked pretty well, for about five hours. 

She’d had lunch up at the main house with her mom (who hadn’t mentioned it once) and that was nice. What they said at the hospital still stood. Mary Margaret had retired not long after to go and sort some paperwork in her study, so Emma had wheeled herself back down to her annex, thinking about watching a movie or something. 

She was just flicking through the TV with her accessible remote when it happened. 

Emma’s heart jumped when she heard the sound of the loose doorknob jiggling out in the hall and the sudden creak of the front door being pushed open. Her brows knitted slightly into a frown. David was doing overtime at the station, her mom was working in her study at the main house. _What the hell...?_

“Yeah?” Emma raised her voice warily, stabbing her finger down clumsily on the button on her wheelchair, swinging towards her bedroom door and wheeling closer. 

At the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, light and bouncy, and the door slamming shut again with no reply, her heart thumped faster. She knew it was dumb, but who would be coming in right now with no –

And then, standing in her bedroom door, breathless and red-cheeked with his red and grey striped scarf wound tight around his neck: Henry Mills. 

“Henry?” Emma stared, face drawing back into a confused frown. “What the hell are you doing here?” She tried to glance around him into the hallway. “How d’you even get in here?”

Henry flashed a toothy grin, leaning against the wooden doorframe while he caught his breath. “Your mom leaves the back gate open when she’s inside.”

_Naturally._ Devious little schemer. Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes, still somewhat bemused the kid was even standing in front of her in her room right now. His hair was sticking up at the back where the spring wind had messed with it. Somewhere Regina was probably itching to smooth it down. _Shit, Regina!_

“Where’s your mom?” Emma demanded. And then, noticing his haphazard uniform sweater for the first time – “Aren’t you meant to be at school?” 

“I finished at three.” Henry shrugged it off, finally coming into the room and starting to take his backpack off. “And Mom let me walk home by myself, so I thought I’d make a detour.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Make a detour as in break into my house?”

“Technically you don’t live in a house.” Henry explained, all grown-up and reasonable. He slipped his arm out of the second backpack strap, holding the bag in his hand so the straps dangled, skimming her bedroom floor. “You live in a building outside your parents house.”

She gave him a look. “And that makes it not illegal?” 

“Yup.”

“Seriously, kid, does your mom know you’re here?” Emma’s mind was flooded with flashes of Regina on her fiercest mama bear mode and made a face. “She’s gonna kill me. Then you. Then me again.” 

“ _Relax_ ,” Henry told her, raising his eyebrows in a childish display of adult exasperation. “Sheesh.” Emma bit back a laugh and he gave her a reassuring look. “She’s looking at wedding venues with Aunt Kathryn and Frederick. She gave me a key to let myself in. She _said_ she’d probably be back after me.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Emma repeated. “You’re hanging a lot on _probably_.” 

“It’s my mom,” Henry said dismissively. “She’s always right. Anyway, you still haven’t let me get to the point.” 

“Right, the point,” Emma nodded, humouring him. “What’s that again?”

“I need to talk to you,” He explained, shrugging his narrow shoulders as if that was obvious. With that, he hefted his school bag onto the side and hopped up onto the chair beside her. “Normally I wouldn’t be talking to you, because you made my mom sad. But I think it’s okay, ‘cause you were sad too.” 

Emma made a face. “What kind of logic is that?”

“Quid pro quo.” Henry explained matter-of-factly. “They cancel each other out.”

The words sounded pretty ridiculous in his high-pitched little kid voice, but Emma managed to keep a straight face. “Right.”

“But I don’t want _either_ of you to be sad. Which is why I’m here.” He flashed a toothy grin. “But, my mom doesn’t know. So you’re gonna have to keep it secret.”

“Secret?” Emma raised her eyebrows. “Your mom’s a pretty scary lady. You really gonna make me lie to her?”

“Yup.” Henry nodded cheerily. “It can be like an undercover mission. I think we’ll call it... Operation Mongoose.” 

“Mongoose?”

“Yeah. Do you have any juice?”

“It’s in the fridge down the hall – no, kid, wait –” Emma sighed, watching in frustration as he stood up and ran off down the hall. _Jesus Christ_. Damn her dumbass chair! And damn Regina for making such a perfect, stubborn, too-smart-for-his-own-good kid. She scowled at the wall. 

Henry zipped back in a second, glass of orange juice in his hand. “Thanks, Emma. You’re the coolest.” He took a drink, and then set the glass carefully down on the nightstand. He scrunched his nose. “No coaster?”

“God, Regina really did a number on you,” Emma muttered to herself, although her chest was buzzing with warmth and something in her stomach had melted like chocolate. _What kind of ten year old kid asks about a coaster?_

“You’re weird.” Henry stated, and then shook his head, climbing back into the chair. “Anyway, let me get to my point.” He stared her down. “I heard all about this operation thing from my mom, and I think you should do it.”

“Kid, seriously.” Emma gave him a look. She had never more wished she was physically able to bang her head against the wall. “You all need to give it a rest with the operation. I might talk to a doctor about it, but it probably won’t even work.”

“You’re hanging a lot on _probably_.” Henry repeated her words back to her, sounding far too smug and serious for her liking. 

Emma sighed, frustrated that he’d managed to outsmart her like that. “Henry,” She forced her voice to be stronger, more authoritative. She was the adult here, and her needed to listen to her. “I really don’t think you understand.” 

“No! I don’t think _you_ understand,” Henry rebuffed, high voice suddenly rising. He stood up from the chair, looking her right in the eye with a look of maturity on his face that was absent in a lot of adults. His mouth was tight, and the way his eyes shone told her he knew, he _felt_ more about this than he let on. He sighed, small hands curled tight at his sides.

“Ever since she got that email about it my mom’s happier than she’s been for _ages_. She doesn’t even care if it doesn’t work. She just wants you to do it because that means you’re trying again. She wants you to do stuff for you because...” Henry’s eyes found hers, wide and round and shining with sincerity. His small voice was strong. “You’re worth the effort.”

Emma stared at him, heart pounding hard, something buried deep inside her chest _shattered_. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to. 

But it was okay. Henry wasn’t finished.

“And you can’t tell her any of this, but she wants to see you again too.” Henry confessed. “She hasn’t said it, but I can tell.” He smiled proudly. “I can always tell with her.”

Emma smiled. It was a long, slow smile she felt long after it finished.

“And...” Henry looked up at her again, big hazel eyes searching hers, almost certain, figuring out. “You want to see her again too.”

Emma glanced away a second, fingers twitching anxiously on the arms of her chair. She clenched her jaw, tried to keep her composure.   
He was just a kid, after all. It wasn’t his fault. After a second Emma nodded hesitantly. “Yeah.” 

She glanced down at her lap for a second, studying the seam on her jeans in great detail. When she looked back up, Henry was staring at her with bright eyes, face filled with an almost adult-like understanding. His eyebrows drew together slightly, like he was debating what to say.

“Do you love her?” Henry asked, after a second, voice small and hesitant. “My mom.” 

Emma swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat. Her chest felt like kindling, like something about to catch fire. Unable to say anything vaguely adult and reasonable, unable to think of anything else, she just nodded again and again, told him the truth. “Yeah.”   
Henry nodded, as if he’d known all along. “So does she.” 

Before Emma could reply, he’d hopped back up off the chair and was scooping up his backpack again. “I should go now, in case my mom gets back and worries about me.” In an instant, he was a kid again, cheery and full of casual faith. “But you should think about what I said.” 

Emma wheeled herself after him into the hallway, making sure he got out okay. He opened the door and turned back to her with a grin. “Bye, Emma,”

“Bye,” Emma blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

Breathing in sharply, Emma looked up and watched him run off up the garden path and around to the front, sunlight glancing off his brown hair, backpack bouncing on his skinny shoulders. There was a faint smile on her lips, and a strange feeling in her chest. Her shoulders collapsed ever so slightly in resignation, and relief. That kid. 

Once again, the decision was made before she ever said it. 

But this time, she thought, the results might just be a bit happier for everyone.

-0-

Evening was just drawing in, turning the spring sky pink and purple, speckled with stars, and Regina and Henry were beginning to settle in after dinner. She’d dug out that old blanket again, and they’d taken up their usual sides of the sofa. The TV was set to their favourite radio station. Henry was doing his homework, and the sound of his pencil scratching against his worksheet was comforting. 

“Mom?” Henry asked suddenly. He looked as curious as he did annoyed. Regina held back a smile. He always looked like that when he needed her help with something. “What’s the square root of –”

That was when her phone started to ring, vibrating obnoxiously on the coffee table. 

“One second, sweetheart –” Regina apologised, mildly irritated. She didn’t clock the hopeful smile on her son’s face. 

She picked up her phone, expecting Kathryn or work. Instead, she was met by the goofy grinning contact picture of Emma Swan. Her heart jumped into her throat. Not thinking, she swiped answer and hastily brought it up to her ear. 

“Emma,” Regina tried hard to swallow her surprise, forcing her voice to stay calm and casual. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Regina.” Emma paused. Regina could hear her breath down the line. After a second, she heard her clear her throat. “I think I’m gonna go for that consultation this weekend.”

“Oh, Emma,” Regina breathed, unable to stop the smile spreading over her face. “That’s wonderful.” 

“Yeah.” Emma agreed, swallowing. For a moment, there was a long silence crackling down the line. And then, suddenly, “I want you to be there.” 

“Absolutely,” Warmth flooded through Regina’s chest. For a second, her breath caught in her throat, and she wasn’t sure what to say. She nodded, as if Emma could see. “I’ll be there, of course.” Her heart beat a little faster, a little steadier. “When is it?”

“Saturday. Twelve o’clock.” Emma told her. “My mom wants to drive so it’s best to meet at the house at ten to.”

“Right,” Regina nodded again, almost in disbelief. “I’ll see you then.” 

“Right,” Emma agreed. And if Regina didn’t know any better, she’d have said she sounded breathlessly happy about it, too. “See you then.”

Regina heard the hang up tone and put the phone down with a smile on her face and the strangest churning in her stomach, of anticipation, of excitement... God, the things this could do for Emma if it worked. If it didn’t! And the fact she’d called specifically to ask her to be there... Maybe Emma wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with her, and maybe she never would be, but if this was a way for them to be a part of each others lives then she’d take it.

Henry was staring at her with wide eager eyes, clearly having heard her side of the conversation. “Was that Emma? Is she doing it?”

Regina turned back to Henry with a smile, pulling him into a tight hug. " _We’re_ doing it.


	33. Our Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back with more (fictitious) information, more contact, and more feelings. Hopefully this mammoth of a chapter will make up for the shorter one's I've been posting recently.
> 
> As always, thank you all for being patient with me and supporting this story!

Regina woke up Saturday morning before the alarm, with a feeling of anticipation buzzing in her chest. 

Pre-morning light streamed through her thin curtains, setting her bedroom awash with a golden-pink glow. If she listened closely, she could hear Henry snoring lightly in the room next door. That put a smile on her face. She wondered if Emma was awake yet. No, who was she kidding? Emma never woke up this early, even on a day like this. 

Regina shifted, fluffing her pillow a bit before setting back down. She didn’t have to get up for a while – she could just wait for Henry to come bounding in like he did every Saturday. And then... 

She couldn’t help smiling into the pillow. God, maybe she was being ridiculous but this – even just this, going and discussing their options, felt like a step forward. A leap, a stride, a _mile_. Regina stretched, sighing against the sheets, and settled back on her back, watching the play of pink morning light over the ceiling. There was a feeling in the air and in her chest like something good was about to happen. 

She couldn’t help her mind wandering back to the phone call, replaying Emma’s words over and over in her head. _I want you to be there._ Her voice had been breathless and certain, for all her hesitance. It reminded Regina of a night not too long ago, when Emma had called her up to say some other words in a voice like that. 

_No_. 

Regina stopped herself before she could get too lost in memory. It wouldn’t do her any good thinking back to all those romantic moments, not today. She was in a good place with Emma now. What they’d shared was magical, and it had showed Regina parts of herself she’d scarcely known existed, but there was a good chance it would never come back, or happen again. And if it didn’t, that was okay. Because she still had Emma in her life. That, she thought, was more than enough. 

She sat up against the pillows, reaching over to pick her phone up off the nightstand and turn it on, just in case. When the lock screen – a photo of her and Henry outside Granny’s – flashed to life, she saw she already had one new message from Emma Swan. Regina bit back a grin as she opened it up. 

_Hey. You still up for today?_

Regina didn’t know what time it had been sent, but she started typing her reply immediately. _Of course. Do you really think I’d miss the look on your face when you realise I was right?_ She tapped send, watching the little loading circle turn around and around. 

She barely had time to think before her phone vibrated in her hands as Emma texted back. Another smile appeared on Regina’s face. _And you say I’m the childish one._

Regina fought the urge to roll her eyes, or laugh, or something. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the phone screen with a feeling of dizzying lightness buzzing inside her chest, and tapped out her response. _Come back to me when you’ve sat through three PG-13s in a row for somebody._

She couldn’t help but laugh when Emma’s reply buzzed through. _Lady, are you still harping on my taste in movies?_ And then again when another followed. _Come at me._

I rest my case, Regina typed, pressing send with a smug smile. She couldn’t quite believe she was sitting here, in bed, jokily texting Emma as if nothing was wrong. Nothing was. 

“Mom!” 

She looked up with a grin at the sight of her son standing in the doorway in his Marvel pyjamas and blue slippers, brown hair askew. His sleepy face turned suddenly curious and suspicious. “Who are you texting?” 

“Nobody,” Regina raised an eyebrow challengingly. 

Henry studied her for a minute, before deciding, “You’re texting Emma.” HE flashed a grin, and then bounded in and onto the bed with her. “I can tell ‘cause you’re face is all gooey.” 

“My face is not gooey.” Regina protested, but Henry was already grabbing her hand tight and pulling her up. 

“Sure it is,” He shrugged. “Anyway. I’m hungry. Can I have French toast?” 

Regina nodded, biting back another comment. She grabbed her robe and followed him down the stairs, caught up in a certain type of happiness and hope she hadn’t felt for months. She put the radio on while she went about making breakfast and brewing coffee, and Henry danced along as he watered the plants. They had a quiet breakfast at the kitchen table, Henry shooting her endless questions, most of which centred around Emma, Emma’s operation, and her relationship with Emma.

Eventually she had to put an end to it, no matter how much it was strangely making her laugh. She showered and dressed quickly in a blue dress and tights, grateful it was finally warm enough to eschew a winter coat for a lighter blazer. There was a second she hesitated when she was doing her makeup, wondering whether or not she should go for the red lipstick today, but eventually thought better of it. This wasn’t a date. This was just the hospital. And they were just friends. 

Still, when she went downstairs to find her boots, Henry was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs with a smug look on his face. He squinted suspiciously at her. “Why do you look nice?” 

“Henry!” Regina gave him an incredulous look, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“I mean like, nicer than usual.” Henry clarified, still studying her with curious eyes as she is. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Regina said lightly, turning to rifle through the shoe rack to find her boots. She grabbed them and turned back around to face him. “And, even if I did, there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes it’s nice to look nice for a trip to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Henry said, rolling his eyes, but Regina could see he was trying not to smile. 

“Come on,” She motioned for the door, zipping up her boots. “Shoes on. Are you sure Nick’s parents are okay to have you round for a couple of hours? Because you know I don’t know how long this will take –”

“They’re cool,” Henry assured her, grabbing his sneakers and pulling them on. “They said I could stay for dinner if I wanted.”

“Well, that’s up to you, but I’ll probably be done before then,” Regina told him, fishing the keys out of the bowl in the foyer. “Just text me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Henry agreed, finishing putting on his shoes and jacket and following her out the door into the fresh April sunshine. Regina closed the door and locked up, sending Emma a quick text telling her she was on her way and dropping Henry off at a friend’s on route. She got a thumbs up emoji as a reply.

So they made the walk down Main Street towards the mayors house together – Nick’s house was a few blocks before the Nolans. The whole walk there Henry was quizzing her again about the situation with Emma. They stopped a few metres back from Nick’s house so Regina could bend down and give him a quick kiss on the forehead so she didn’t embarrass him. 

Once he was safely inside, she started off the rest of the way towards the mayor’s house, pulling out her phone and squinting at the dark screen in the bright light. It was silly. She was checking for text from a woman she was going to see in about three minutes. She just... couldn’t help it. 

Regina reached the house with a flutter of hope and anticipation in her stomach, smoothing down her hair and making her way down the neat garden to knock on the front door. It took a few seconds for Mary Margaret to open, wearing in a yellow cardigan and a warm smile. “Regina,” 

“Hey,” Regina conjured a smile, and let Mary Margaret pull her into a hug. 

“Oh, I’m glad you could make it,” The mayor confessed, with a bright smile and a squeeze of Regina’s shoulders. She glanced behind her into the house. “David’s just bringing Emma up now, and then we can get going.”

“Great,” Regina nodded. There was a feeling sparking in the air between them, hope and nerves and excitement all rolled into one – she could feel it coming off Mary Margaret in waves. 

“Regina! Hey.”

Regina turned around to find David wheeling Emma through the back gate to the garden, leaning on the handles with the sun in his greying hair. Emma was squinting over at her in the harsh glare of sunlight, ducking her head under her unruly curls. The sight of her, half-smiling like normal, sun shining off the dark red leather of her jacket and the metallic wheels of her chair... That crackling, sparking hope in the air was amplified tenfold. 

“Hi,” Regina greeted. 

Emma’s eyes met hers across the driveway. It took her a second, but she smiled. A real, wide smile, dimpling her cheeks as she squinted in the sunlight. “We all ready to go?” 

So David flashed a crooked grin and went to set up the ramps for the minivan, and Mary Margaret started the engine, and Regina once again found herself in the seat beside Emma’s wheelchair space, wondering when she’d become a part of this family again, and if she’d ever really stopped. 

-0-

“Emma Swan to see Doctor Whale, please?” 

The nurse’s voice broke the four of them from their conversation suddenly. Emma glanced between the three people sitting around her in the waiting room, a sudden wave of anxiety washing over her. 

Still, there was a nervous smile on her face by the time her parents had gathered up all their bags and coats, and Regina had just naturally taken hold of the handles of her chair. And then before she even had time to think, they were following the nurse down a fluorescent corridor, a flurry of clicking shoes and whirring wheels and nervous energy zipping off the clinical white walls. Inside the office, the thinly slatted blinds let in the midday sun, and Dr Whale sat at his cluttered desk flipping through a file. 

“Well, I see we’ve got the whole entourage this morning,” Whale greeted, looking up from his desk with a quick smile before turning back to flick through the stack of files on his desk. He motioned to the chairs in front of him. “Have a seat, please.”

The quartet went into action, Regina drew Emma’s chair up beside the standard two opposite the desk, where Mary Margaret was already unwinding her scarf and sitting down next to David, rolling up the sleeves of his plaid shirt and leaning back. 

“So,” Whale looked between the four of them once all the shuffling had settled down. His gaze was steady and careful, evaluating. “How are we all?”

Emma glanced at Regina out of instinct. The brunette caught her eye and nodded almost imperceptibly, giving her a small smile that set the butterflies in her stomach off fluttering again. She nodded and cleared her throat. “We’re doing good.” 

“Good,” Whale flashed a smile, glancing between Emma and her parents. His blue eyes lingered a little on Regina, but thankfully he didn’t ask. Instead, he flipped open the thick card file in his hand and cleared his throat. “So, I trust you all received the email that was sent out about the... Development in SCI treatments.” 

It was Mary Margaret and David who exchanged a look this time, and Emma caught their nervous smiles out of the corner of her eye. Beside her, Regina was nodding. Her brown eyes were fixed on Whale and her posture was sharp as if she was going to war.

“So today I think we should discuss your options, and hopefully I can give you a little more information as to what the actual surgery will entail.” Whale explained. 

“Right,” Mary Margaret nodded. When Emma glanced over at her, she noticed that her hand was entwined with David’s on the armrest of her chair, their wedding rings glinting gold in the harsh fluorescent light overhead. Emma had to bite back a smile at that, before turning back to the doctor. 

“I’m afraid it’ll have to be a two-part surgery in Emma’s case.” Whale told them. “The first will take about four hours, and she’ll have to stay in overnight. That surgery will involve connecting the healthy nerves around her shoulders to the damaged ones in the upper arms. Hopefully she’ll be able to go home the morning after, then we’ll leave a two week period until the next operation to let the nerves settle. During that time we’ll run some tests and see how the first one worked. 

“Providing all’s well, we’d progress to the second part of the operation, which connects the new nerve tracks to the ones further down her arms and hands. The procedure time varies - it can take up to five or six hours, and it's likely she'll be able to go home the next day. As with the first surgery, we’ll give it some time and run some tests. 

“Then...” Whale took a breath, looking slowly between the four of them. “If it seems like all is well, we’ll create a personal daily physiotherapy plan for you. We can have nurses come out and do them with you, and –” He glanced at Regina. “We can teach others to help with it and some exercises you’ll be able to do yourself.

“After that’s worked out it’s just a case of doing the physiotherapy until something happens. It might take a month, a year, more, but you just have to keep it up and hope for the best. Of course, you’ll come on more check ups in the hospital where we can monitor your progress and see if there’s anything more you can be doing to encourage the return of movement.”

“What’s the best case outcome?” Regina asked, leaning forward in her seat. Her dark eyes were intent and fixed on Whale. “If everything goes according to plan, what’s the best that could happen?”

“The best?” Whale took a moment, mouth open, almost hesitant. After a second, he looked over at Regina and admitted, “Full use of hands and arms.” His words hung in the air for a second, settling like dust over all of them. “Of course, that could take years of physiotherapy and isn’t always the case.”

“And the worst?” Emma asked, throat tight. 

Whale’s eyes met hers. “Nothing.” 

Emma nodded, swallowing. And then suddenly – there was a hand on hers, on the armrest of her wheelchair. She glanced over sharply at Regina when she saw, heart seeming to pound harder and soften all at once. It looked like it was just a light, comforting touch, a simple friendly gesture, and Regina let go quickly, but it still had Emma’s heart melting. _Keep it together, Swan_.

She lifted her stare back up across the cluttered desk to Doctor Whale. “So, best case scenario my hands and arms work again, worst case –”

“You’re no worse off than you are now.” Regina finished.

“Exactly.” Whale confirmed, apparently oblivious to the exchange between the two women. “Either you improve to some degree – even if it isn’t by much – or you simply remain as you are, which we thought was going to be the case anyway. So really –”

“What have I got to lose?” Emma finished for him, without thinking. 

She could feel David and Mary Margaret’s eyes on her, their hands still entwined between them – Whale’s too – but she was only looking at Regina’s, wide and coffee-dark, shining, filled with hope. Emma swallowed hard, and nodded. She didn’t think. She didn't let herself. She just spoke, the words spilling out of her like blood from a wound. “So when do we do these tests?” Emma glanced around the doctors office, raising an eyebrow. “Today?”

The shift in the air was immediate. 

“Well that's up to you.” Whale told her, pale eyebrows raising. “You can still decide not to afterwards but –”

“Okay.” Emma said. All she was thinking of was that hand on hers, and the look on Henry’s face when he said she was worth it. She found Whale’s eyes. Her mind was made up. “Then let’s do it.” 

Almost two hours later, after two consent forms, one nervous system scan and two response tests, Emma found herself in another sub-waiting area in a different part of the hospital, wheelchair pulled up to a stop beside her dad’s chair, bantering lightly with him while her mom and Regina talked about work or parenting or something like that. 

They’d been there for about ten minutes when the familiar chime of a text message beeped through the waiting area. Emma craned her head as much as she could, trying to catch her mom's eye.

“Damn it,” Mary Margaret sighed, staring at her phone screen. 

David glanced at her, brows drawing into a frown. “What?”

“It’s Sarah at the office.” Her voice was somehow resigned. “Apparently there’s this whole crisis with the funding reports and she needs me –” Mary Margaret sighed again, staring from her daughter to her husband. “But I can’t just – I have to –”

“I can drive you down there and then come back with the minivan for Emma after,” David suggested. 

“It’s gonna be a while ‘til the results comes through anyway,” Emma put in, raising an eyebrow at Mary Margaret. “I can just wait here. I’d have to stay anyway.” 

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to speak, brows knitted together, uncertainty in her green eyes, but Regina spoke before she could say anything. “I can stay with her.” 

“Are you sure?” Mary Margaret asked, clearly grateful. “What about Henry?”

“He’s at a friends, they can have him until dinner.” Regina explained smoothly. She gave Mary Margaret a small smile. “Go.” She raised a perfect dark eyebrow. “I know how stressful it can get down there.”

Mary Margaret’s anxious features collapsed into a grateful smile. She reached out to give Regina’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”  
With another glance at the clock on the whitewashed wall, Mary Margaret pulled Regina into a hug, and then bent down to give Emma a squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, before winding her scarf around her neck and hefting her back up her shoulder. “I’ll be out as soon as I can, I promise –”

“Won’t be long,” David added, turning to Emma and giving her a wink, even though his blue eyes were still soft and full of nervous hope. “See you in a minute, kid. I’ll text you.” 

“See you,”

Emma watched them go, weirdly unfazed by being left alone with Regina for the first time since she’d burst into the annex with tousled hair and an email on her phone. That had been awkward, but everything since – the phone call, this morning... It just felt natural. Nice. 

She turned back to her, one eyebrow raised. “You know, you really need to get back to working with her again.” Regina shook her head slightly, mouth open, but Emma cut her off before she could protest. “You saw her just then.” A grin tugged at the corners of her lips. “Whole town’s falling apart without you.” 

“Ah, of course.” Regina was restraining a smile, eyebrow raised. “I’ve been here, what? Seven, eight months?” 

Emma rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but crack a smile. And then before she knew it, they'd fallen right back into their old rhythms, quick and easy as falling asleep. And it didn't matter they were in a waiting room in the depths of a hospital - just like it didn't matter when they barely left Emma's annex, all those months ago. By the time the nurse came over to them, they were chatting and joking and exchanging smiles and sarcastic comments as the clock on the wall ticked by.

The nurse rounded the corridor sharply, clipboard held against the chest of her green scrubs, and made a beeline for them. “Right, Emma Swan?” She asked, as soon as she was close enough to find her eyes.

“That’s me,” Emma confirmed, as if there was another thirtysomething quadriplegic woman living in Storybrooke. The nurse nodded, and the bright fixed smile on her face turned suddenly sympathetic. Emma knew that look – when a nurse fixed you with it, something was wrong. She braced herself.

“Right, well, turns out there’s a problem with the system today and we won’t be able to get the results back for a while.” The nurse explained, with a sympathetic twist of her eyebrows. “If you want to leave now we can email you or send it by post. It’s totally up to you but we don’t know when we’ll be back up -”

“Email’s fine,” Emma assured her. 

“Okay, are you sure?” The nurse’s eyes found hers. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“And none of your contact details have changed since last time we contacted you?” 

Emma paused. This was the moment she could ask for Regina to be taken off the contact list, if she wanted to. Even the thought nearly made her laugh. _As if_. “Nope, it’s all the same.” 

“Okay,” The showy smile was back on the nurse’s face. “We’ll let you know as soon as possible so we can schedule you’re next visit. Okay?”

“Okay,” Emma replied.

“Great.” The nurse flashed another smile, eyes darting between Emma and Regina for a moment before she turned around to write something on a form at reception and then head back off to another ward. 

“So –” Regina began. 

She was interrupted by Emma's phone, beeping loudly from behind her. 

“Hey, can you check that for me?” Emma asked, twisting her head around to motion to the bag hanging off the handles of her chair. “It’s in my bag.” 

“On it,” Regina said, standing up and fishing through the contents of her bag until she came up with Emma’s phone and swiped it open. There was one new message – _from Dad_. “It’s David.” Regina opened the conversation up and couldn’t help but sigh as she read the new text. “He’s stuck in traffic getting into town.” 

“Seriously?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “This town has like, ten residents for thirty years and _now_ there’s traffic.” 

Regina shrugged, dropping her phone back in Emma’s back and zipping it shut. “I suppose these things happen.”

“City girl.” Emma scoffed. 

Regina rolled her eyes, dropping (annoyingly elegantly) back down into the blue hospital chair next to her and shot her a sideways look. “So we’re going to be here a while.” 

“Well, maybe...” Emma couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. “You wanna grab a coffee or something while we wait?”

Regina’s dark eyes caught hers, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “I’d like that.” 

So Regina pushed her down the maze of fluorescent-lit corridors and past colourful wards and crowded waiting rooms until they found the hospital café, tucked into a corridor near reception. She pushed her into the queue and ordered with her, and one of the baristas offered to take their tray over to a table for them so Regina could manoeuvre the wheelchair into place. 

Once they were all settled down, and Regina had helped her with the hands-free, Emma finally let herself breathe in and relax. In here, the lights were slightly less harsh, and the warm air smelled of coffee instead of antiseptic spray. Emma looked up across the table, eyes accidently catching Regina’s, and a laugh bubbled up in her chest. She wasn’t sure why. For a second, they just sat there, either side of the polished dark wood table in the hospital café, almost smiling, almost talking. 

After a second, Regina cleared her throat, absently stirring her coffee with a teaspoon. It clinked against the china. “You know, with all this talk about operations and tests..." Her brown eyes flickered up to meet Emma's over the table, and she breathed in. "I don’t think I’ve actually asked how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing good,” Emma told her, swallowing. “And I mean that. With or without this surgery, it feels like everything in my life is getting back on track. Even if it’s not quite there yet.” 

A soft smile brushed over Regina’s face. “That’s wonderful, Emma.” She paused. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“So am I.” Emma confessed. And then, to diffuse the tension, “I mean, can you imagine being stuck in a waiting room with my parents all this time?”

“Oh, be nice.” Regina told her, although Emma could see she was fighting a smile. “They mean well.” 

“I know,” Emma conceded, nodding. She glanced up from her coffee. “So does your kid. You know he broke into my house the other day, right?”

The look on Regina’s face was _priceless_. 

“He did _what?_ ” Regina demanded, dark eyes wide and glinting with dangerous protective fury. She stared at Emma, wordlessly warning her. 

“I’m kidding.” Emma laughed. She wasn't sure what she was thinking. She wasn't thinking, in all honesty: she was totally overcome with this dizzying rush of normality. “Seriously though, I can’t believe you’re letting him stay at his friends for dinner.”

“Neither can I,” Regina replied. She paused, incredulous, then shot Emma a challenging look. “Maybe it’s just seeing you again.” She leaned closer, almost conspiratorially. “I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

“Me?” Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Come on, _I’m_ the lion hearted hero in this story.” 

“Oh, you are?” Regina raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“I’m _totally_ the hero!” Emma enthused. “Come on, if this was a book, I’d be the brave protagonist, and you’d be –” She broke herself off before the words _love interest_ slipped out. 

Regina was biting back a smirk, Emma could see it. _Smug bitch_. The brunette flipped her hair back and fixed Emma with a look. “I’d be what?” 

Emma faltered for a second, trying not to laugh. “You’d be the snarky supporting character who everyone loves.” Regina looked too pleased with that for her liking, so she cocked an eyebrow at her across the table and added, “Or maybe the antagonist.”

“In what world am I the antagonist?” Regina demanded, taking a sip of coffee.

“The world where you’re fucking perfect and it’s annoying.” Emma said, before she could even think about it. “Seriously, who wears seven inch heels to a hospital?”

Regina sipped her coffee placidly. “Plenty of people,”

“Nobody in Storybrooke, that’s for sure.” Emma remarked. _Not that I’m complaining_. 

“In that case I’m _definitely_ the hero.” Regina reasoned. Her hands were resting around her coffee cup, like she was keeping them warm, and her well-manicured nails were tapping against the china. “Restoring faith and class to the streets of Storybrooke.”

“Bullshit,” Emma teased, pulling a face. “You’re not restoring it to anyone. You just want to look hot.” 

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Is that such a crime?”

“Maybe it is when you know I’m trying to stay away from you.” Emma heard herself say. 

_Shit._ Emma thought, sudden pang of shock flashing through her stomach. _Fuck. Why did I say that?_ But she didn't feel panicked. She didn't feel worried at all, actually. In fact, after the moment passed, a strange sense of calm washed over her and she could feel a soft little smile on her lips. 

Across the polished wooden table top, Regina was staring at her, her expertly made up coffee-brown eyes lingering on Emma’s green. After a second, she shifted in her chair and leaned a little closer. “ _Bullshit_ ,” Regina repeated her own phrase back to her, like Henry had done a few days earlier. There was a faint hint of smile on her full lips. “You’re not trying.” 

Emma swallowed, eyes darting over the other woman’s face for a second before she pulled herself together. She made a show of looking around the coffee shop, then back at Regina. “You’re right.” Emma shook her head and scrunched her nose in dismissal. “I’m not.”

The smile on Regina’s face blossomed, spreading from her lips to her cheeks to her eyes and finally hitting home in the pit of Emma’s stomach. She pushed back a lock of dark hair and lifted her coffee cup to her lips. She took her time, taking a couple of sips before setting it back down and lifting her eyes coyly to Emma’s. 

“For what it’s worth,” Regina confided, that rich voice clear and precise. “I’m not either.” 

The energy between them was humming, light and loaded at the same time. Emma was high as a kite and stone cold sober all at once. Emma grinned, taking a deep breath in. She cleared her throat. “In the interest of not trying, would you maybe wanna... Do this again sometime?” Emma tried, finding Regina’s dark eyes with a smile tugging at her lips. 

Regina took a sip of coffee and raised a challenging eyebrow at her. “Would I like to spend two hours in a hospital café waiting for your father to pick us up?”

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

Regina smiled over the lid of her coffee cup, and her voice was small and soft when she confessed, “I’d like that.”

Emma swallowed back a grin, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She squashed it down, glancing around the steamy little coffee shop to distract herself, the patrons conversing over mugs, some smiling, some trailing cannulas or more temporary looking wheelchairs. “If we ever get out of here, that is.” Emma joked. 

“Why don’t we just walk back?” Regina suggested suddenly, brown eyes finding hers, earnest. “It’s a beautiful day, and I think the fresh air would do us both good. I can push you.” 

Emma didn’t think before she answered, smile creeping slowly across her face again. Her eyes stayed on Regina’s and despite the people sitting at tables all around, clinking cutlery against tea plates and sipping coffee and sharing private conversations, the hopeful, crackling energy slowly filling the air between them was entirely theirs. 

And so, somehow, inexplicably, Emma found herself being pushed down the street from the hospital into town, the heels on Regina’s boots clicking on the pavement out of time with the wheels of her chair just like they used to. She’d texted her dad not to come and pick them up. He’d responded with a thumbs up emoji and a heart. 

Above, the spring sky was a cloud-spat blue. Birds flew in and out of the branches of half-budded trees, their brown branches dotted with colour. The air was clean and fresh, and when Emma breathed in deep it felt like it was cleansing her, inside and out. 

All around her, the world seemed bright and sharply focused, and there was a feeling crackling and sparking through the air like magic or electricity, like they were on the cusp of something. _Something_. Some world where flowers grew on trees and people could rearrange nerves like puzzle pieces inside the bodies of other people, and beautiful women with complex smiles held her hand in hospitals, and they could move away from things that had happened with scarcely a word. 

On the road beside them, a bright yellow car sped by, and when a passer-by smiled at Emma and muttered a ‘good afternoon’ to Regina, Regina said _good afternoon_ back. When they turned onto Main Street, the breeze off the sea was winding through the streetlamps and shop signs to play with her hair. 

For once, she couldn’t feel people staring at her. 

“See?” Regina said, leaning close where she was holding the handles of the chair. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Emma smiled despite herself, glancing down at her lap before back up to the sky. She was thinking of the last time Regina said that, how far they’d come, and how she could barely remember a time before her. “I guess I just needed the right company.”

“I guess,” Regina allowed, and Emma could hear the smile in her voice.

So maybe this wasn't a typical day out. Maybe most people didn't spend their first day back with their loved one after a separation in blue vinyl chairs in hospital waiting rooms, or drinking shitty coffee in a café surrounded by stressed surgeons and laughing cancer patients. Maybe this wasn't _normal_ , but it didn't matter. It didn't, Emma realised suddenly, heart soaring and pounding, and it never had. 

Because maybe - just maybe - this was _their_ normal.


	34. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mammoth chapter coming at you. Two in a row? What’s up with me lately? As always, thank you all so much for reading this story. I’m frankly overwhelmed by the response and support I’ve got from this and I genuinely, totally love you all. You rock. 
> 
> Also, just a note – it’s show week next week so there’s a good chance I might not be able to post until the week after. Hopefully this one will keep you full til then...

It was a quiet Wednesday morning when Regina got the call – not _the_ call, but a call. She had the day off work, and she’d just got back from dropping Henry at school, ready to get to some badly-needed gardening. She was just wondering where she’d put the weed spray when she heard her ringtone buzzing from the next room. 

Vaguely annoyed at the interruption, Regina pushed through the door into the den. Vibrating on the coffee table, her phone screen showed Kathryn’s contact picture and name. _That’s strange_ , Regina thought. She was sure her friend was meant to be meeting photographers today with Frederick. 

“Kathryn,” Regina greeted, swiping answer and holding the phone up to her ear. “Hi.” 

“Regina?” She was met with Kathryn’s usually precise voice breathless and bubbling with nerves. With excitement. “I’m so glad you picked up, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” Regina allowed, confused. She sat down on the couch behind her. “Is everything alright? What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine,” Kathryn assured her brightly. Down the line, Regina heard her swallow. “More than fine actually. Well... We got a phone call from the wedding venue a couple of days ago and they told us there’s been an emergency and we can’t have the ceremony there anymore. Not for our date, at least. And it’s booked solid until August.”

“What?” Regina released a sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions and crossing her legs. “Kathryn, that’s not _fine_.”

“No, not that,” Kathryn said dismissively. She sounded like a little kid, breathlessly relaying a big story without fully remembering all the details in the right order. “Fred and I have been talking about all of this and we realised we don’t want to wait that long. We don’t want to wait at all, in fact.” 

Regina couldn’t help but feel a tingle of excitement for her friend. “So...?” 

“So change of plan.” Kathryn said. “We’re bringing the wedding forward.”

“To when?” Now there was an incredulous smile on Regina’s face.

She heard Kathryn take a breath before she simply stated, “Friday.”

Regina’s eyebrows shot up. “ _This_ Friday?” 

“Yeah.” Kathryn confirmed. She sounded nervous again, but a happy kind of nervous. An excited, bewildered, head-over-heels-in-love nervous. That was something Regina understood. Down the line, Kathryn took another deep breath. “And its going to be in my dads garden.”

“Your what?”

“My dad.” Kathryn repeated. “He owns this big house about a mile or two out of town, and it has like, two acres of land with it.” She explained. “We’re going to throw up a gazebo and have the ceremony and the reception there.”

“I...” Regina was lost for words for a second. They’d been planning this wedding together for months – it had brought them together really, having not talked since college before September. It was going to be picture-perfect. The wedding was supposed to take place at a beautiful colonial mansion in New Hampshire. And yet... Kathryn sounded happier with this than anything they’d planned for that. 

Regina couldn’t help but smile. The bride to be’s excitement was infectious, clearly. “That sounds wonderful, Kathryn.” She paused, mind ticking, suddenly launching into analytical bridesmaid mode. “What about the catering?”

“We’ve called them up and told them the new plan.” Kathryn told her. “They’re totally fine with it. We’re going to have to do without a photographer though, and the flowers are all coming from Game of Thorns down the road.” 

Regina nodded, processing all this new information quickly. “Decorations?” 

“All the Christmas lights we can find.” Kathryn affirmed. She paused. “Look, Regina, I know this all sounds crazy but it just feels right. I love him. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Regina laughed, suddenly feeling very light. “That doesn’t sound crazy, Kathryn. That actually makes perfect sense.”

“Spoken like a true veteran.” Kathryn remarked. There was another pause, longer this time. “Speaking of, is Emma coming to the wedding? Mary Margaret and David RSVP-ed pretty quickly but I hadn’t heard. And I mean, with all this operation stuff going on I didn’t know if she could –”

“Well, she’s not coming as my date, if that’s what you’re asking.” Regina retorted. “I’m in a good place with her now. But I don’t know whether or not she’ll go. She hasn’t even confirmed whether or not she’s having the surgery yet, but I’m still not sure. Her parents –”

“Then why doesn’t she just come as your friend?” Kathryn suggested. “I think it’d be good for you to know someone there aside from the bride, the mayor and your nine year old son.” 

“Kathryn,” Regina stated, not knowing what else she could.

“Just think about it, okay?” Kathryn told her. “That’s my order, bride to bridesmaid.”

And true to her word, Regina did think about it. A lot. To the point where, three hours later, before she had leave for the school run, she found herself sitting on the end of her bed upstairs, staring at her phone. She’d been staring at it for about ten minutes. She picked it up. She put it down. 

Regina exhaled heavily, lying back across the neatly-made bedsheets. She stared at the ceiling for a second, listening to her heart beat and wondering when she’d reverted back to a high schooler. God, this was so... 

She breathed in, reaching across the bed for her phone before she could lose momentum. She quickly unlocked it and opened up her contacts, scrolling down to where the name _Emma Swan_ stared up at her. The contact picture beside it was the same as it had been for months – the blonde was grinning and trying to go cross-eyed, face bright and happy. 

Regina sighed, staring at her phone screen. 

Tilting her head as if to assess the situation from a new angle, Regina considered what Emma might say. It was a yes or no question, really. And she’d be fine with either answer. She just didn’t want to scare her off again. After the break up, Regina was so _unbelievably_ grateful to have Emma back in her life, and she didn’t want to jeopardize what they had. 

No, you know what, if Emma thought there was something more in simply coming to someone else’s wedding – which her own _parents_ would be attending anyway – then that was her problem, and Regina could always explain what she really meant. Not that she knew what that was. 

Filled with a sudden rush of courage, Regina swiped call on Emma’s contact and tapped speakerphone on. It rang a couple of times before she heard the other woman pick up. 

“Hey,” Emma’s voice was relaxed, natural and familiar. “What’s up?” 

“Not much,” Regina admitted. She shifted back on her bed for a second, reclining back against the pillows and staring at the ceiling. She breathed in, watching the play of light and the spring breeze through the curtains. “I was just wondering actually if you’d want to come to Kathryn’s wedding with me.” 

“Really?” 

“And Henry,” Regina rushed to amend. “I mean, I know your parents are going and I was just talking with Kathryn earlier about the new date –”

Little did she know, a couple of streets away, Emma was smiling with all the light of the sun. “I’d love to.” 

“Oh,” Regina swallowed, forcing herself to ignore the sudden fluttering in her stomach. She nodded, smiling coyly into the empty bedroom. “Well then you know the new time and date?”

“I know the time and date.” Emma confirmed. She paused a second. “You know, if you and Henry wanted to come over here a bit before   
I’m sure my parents won’t mind us all going down together. There’s room for everyone.” 

“That sounds... Perfect.” Regina admitted. Then she winced, realising something. “Although I might have to ask you to keep an eye on Henry. I have to wait with Kathryn before the ceremony.” She paused. “Bridesmaid duty.” 

“Sure,” Emma agreed. “Kid thinks I’m a superhero. What’s not to like? Plus, my parents will _definitely_ get a kick out of babysitting. They’re getting, like, grandparent-broody.” 

Regina couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay.” She nodded, drawing her knees up loosely to her chest. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Emma repeated. “That’s sorted then. Friday, two o’clock, my parents drive.” She paused, letting the light, warm energy hang down the line between them for a second. “I’ll be the one in the wheelchair.” 

“Got it,” Regina said, excitement dancing in her chest. “Just _wait_ ‘til I tell Henry.”

-0-

Friday rolled around with race-car speed. Regina had taken the day off work, and carefully set the alarm early enough to have breakfast and get ready, although she woke up long before, to pale pink sunlight streaming through her bedroom curtains and a tingling, fluttering excited feeling in her stomach. 

Part of her knew it was silly – it wasn’t _her_ wedding. But she was still excited, somehow. She’d known Kathryn for a long time, and she’d never seen her as happy as she was with Frederick. It was nice to be able to watch them commit to each other like this. But more than that – _she was going with Emma._

Ever since their day together at the hospital, Regina and Emma had been texting daily, seeing each other for casual coffees and, once or twice, for picking Henry up from school together on the days Emma finished up at the station at two. And now this. Things were moving forward, that was for sure. 

Anticipation squirming in her stomach, Regina got herself out of bed and woke a groggy but over-excited Henry, who started quizzing her the second she sat down across from him at the breakfast table. 

“So Aunty Kathryn and Frederick are getting married today,” Henry asked, squinting slightly at her and pausing to take a spoonful of All-Bran. “But they aren’t supposed to get married until later.” 

“There’s really no _supposed to_ ,” Regina tried to explain, taking a sip of orange juice and setting her glass back down on its coaster. “They’d _planned_ a summer wedding, but some of the plans fell through and they thought, why not have it now?”

“But couldn’t they just have found somewhere new to have it?” Henry asked. His spoon clinked against his bowl, and his hazel eyes were bright and curious, fixed on hers. 

“They could have,” Regina allowed. “But they saw an opportunity and they took it.” She paused, and breathed in. “It’s romantic, okay?” She gave him a look.

“ _Oh_ ,” Henry stopped swinging his legs under the table abruptly. “I get it. It’s like when you and Emma went to see the ice-skaters that time.”

“What –” Regina broke herself off, suddenly disarmed. “Not exactly, it’s not – Kathryn and Frederick are getting _married_ , Emma and I –”

Henry’s eyes were fixed on hers, big and shiny and unblinking. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Regina said, standing abruptly and taking her empty breakfast plate to the dishwasher. She knelt to open it and slide the plate into place, and then stood and turned abruptly. “Now come on –” She raised an eyebrow at her son, leaning over to take his empty cereal bowl from in front of him. “You go hop in the shower. It’s a big day today – and we both need to look our best.”

Henry got up and raced upstairs with little complaint, and Regina clicked the radio on while she did the dishes. Once he was out of the shower and hopefully getting into his wedding outfit – miniature shirt and bow tie, pressed trousers, polished shoes – Regina took her turn and belted on a robe, going to check his progress before getting started on herself. 

He was sitting on his bed, half-buttoned shirt and trousers on, bow tie dangling from his open collar. He was wearing blue socks patterned with little Captain America shields. That made Regina smile, and she resolved not to make him change them. Instead, she swallowed back a laugh and knelt to wrap the bow tie around Henry’s shirt collar. She gave him a look. “You still don’t know how to tie one of these things?”

“I still don’t _want_ to,” Henry corrected, pulling a face as Regina tucked the tie into a perfect bow. 

“I know,” Regina sympathised, absently smoothing down his hair. “I know, sweetie, but we all have to dress up.” She caught his eye, small smile playing on her lips. “And you look _very_ handsome.”

Henry cocked his head a little, tugging the tie. “It’s uncomfortable.” 

“Everyone has to be uncomfortable at weddings, it’s a rule.” Regina told him, tugging her robe tighter around herself. “Speaking of...” She gave him a quick kiss on the head and straightened. “I have to go get dressed. There’s a banana in the bowl if you’re still hungry. And brush your hair, okay?”

“O _kay_ ,” Henry huffed theatrically, clambering over the bed to grab his hairbrush. 

Regina smiled to herself as she headed back into her own bedroom. She put the radio on again, a slink of excitement coiling through her stomach as she sat down to curl the ends of her hair and do her make up. 

It took her longer than she thought – she didn’t have time to faff about with dress options like she’d planned, so she made a snap decision and went for the strappy-backed black one she’d bought a few months ago. Red-bottomed black heels for shoes. She only afforded a quick glance in the mirror at the finished product – she was sure it was fine. She’d rather have the time to make sure Henry was sorted. 

Armed with a too-small clutch bag, Regina grabbed her phone from the side and texted Emma a quick we’ll be at yours soon before stowing it away and making her way down the stairs. Henry was sitting on the couch playing Angry Birds on his phone, suit immaculate, hair sticking up a little at the back. 

He glanced up when he saw her. “Is it time to go?” 

Regina nodded. 

Out in the driveway, she brushed her fingers through his hair one last time, planting a quick kiss on the top of his head before they climbed into the car and headed for the Nolan house. Still, Henry didn’t look thrilled to have been wrestled into formal attire. 

A few streets away, Mary Margaret was having a similar situation with Emma. 

“Emma, can you please hold still –”

“Wow,” Emma couldn't help cracking the same old joke. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”

“ _Emma_.” Her mom murmured, but when Emma cracked an eye open Mary Margaret was still leaning over her with a look of utter concentration on her face. 

“I’m bored,” Emma complained. “And it feels weird.”

“You asked for this,” Mary Margaret reminded her absently. “You brought this on yourself.” 

As she had the night of the Christmas ball, her mother was doing her makeup. Also much like that night, she was getting _way_ too into it. Emma was mildly worried she was actually going for the drag queen look, which was fine, but Emma had told her she just wanted to look _natural_. _Ah well_. 

David was bustling about the house in half a suit – minus jacket, tie, and shoes – and looking for the minivan keys. He kept crossing through the den, past their spot by the coffee table, and he whistled every single time. Emma couldn’t help but grin to herself. 

Her parents were dorks. 

Once Mary Margaret was done with her work on Emma’s face, she sat back with a smile and a voila, and the hurried away to clear the brushes and fetch her own shoes and jacket. Emma suspected a dodgy hat was on the cards too – it was a wedding after all. 

Thankfully, her mom hadn’t insisted she wear one of _those_ when she’d dug up yet another old dress to force Emma into. Emma glanced down at herself, and supposed she should be glad it wasn’t worse. _Actually_ , she thought, _it’s not too bad_. As far as dresses went. 

It was a white cocktail-length thing, with a welcome lack of the floral patterns and excessive flounce her mom usually favoured. Her mom had thrust a shawl on her too, insisting there was still a nip in the air. _Whatever_. Emma had got her mom to curl her hair too – well, _got_. Mary Margaret practically pounced – and hopefully her face didn’t look too bad. All in all, she was fairly pleased with herself. 

Neither of her parents were in the room when the knock on the door came. Emma sighed theatrically. “Mom!” She yelled. “Dad! Regina’s here!” 

She managed to press the button on the armrest to get herself out into the hall. She could see the blurry outline of Regina and Henry standing on the doorstep. Damn her damn arms. “Sorry,” Emma yelled, raising her voice. Hopefully they could hear her through the door. “My parents are upstairs!”

“It’s alright!” She heard Regina’s voice, yelling through the door back at her. “I think I have my key still!”

“Okay!” Emma shouted, close to laughing. 

Sure enough, after a moment of fumbling, Regina came up with the key to the house, and Emma heard it click in the lock before the door swung open. Regina was saying something to Henry, head ducked slightly to talk to him as she led him into the Nolans hallway, where Emma couldn’t have moved even if she’d been able to. 

Regina just looked so gorgeous, standing there in the little black dress of Emma’s wildest fucking fantasies, so softly engaged with her son, so uniquely _Regina_... 

“God,” Emma breathed, not thinking as she spoke. “Every time I think you can’t get any more beautiful, you just have to go and prove me wrong, don’t you?” Her voice was soft and reverent. “Stubborn bitch.”

Regina swallowed hard. Her chest was pounding. She was still not used to hearing the kind of things Emma said to her, let alone _from Emma_ , let alone after everything... Slightly baffled and embarrassingly flustered, Regina could only nod for a second. 

“Well, you look very beautiful yourself,” Regina told her. And it was true. Emma always looked nice, even in those ridiculous plaid shirts. It wasn’t the dress, which was, admittedly, lovely – it was the easiness of her smile, and the unguarded soft eyes. She looked _relaxed_ and natural and happy, and it was doing all kinds of things to Regina’s heart. 

Emma’s smile then reminded Regina of a sunrise. Just a bit of light here, then there, then a burst of brightness until her whole face was lit up. As if to prove her point. 

“Ew.” Henry said, suddenly bringing them back to the present. 

Emma swallowed back a smirk, and there was a rush of heat to Regina’s cheeks, but they were saved soon enough by Emma’s parents coming down the stairs in a flurry of conversation and rushed apologies. 

Emma was promptly pushed out the way so the ageing mayor and sheriff could envelop _her_ – friend – in hugs. Although, Emma thought it was sort of worth being excluded just to see the look on Regina’s expertly-made-up face at the sudden attack. 

“And who’s this handsome young man?” Mary Margaret gasped when she saw Henry, stepping out into the doorway. Henry grinned and rolled his eyes, pretending to be modest and embarrassed, but Regina knew better. 

“Wow, you look pretty smooth, little man,” David agreed. “What d’you think, everyone, have I got some competition?” 

“Oh yeah,” Emma affirmed. “For sure.” 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to take this outside,” Mary Margaret put in, buttoning up her jacket. “Or else we’re going to be late.” 

“Okay, okay,” David shook his head good-naturedly, and Henry ran along beside him asking him questions about what it was like to be a cop. Mary Margaret hung back after she ushered them all out onto the drive to lock the door, leaving Regina to take the handles of Emma’s chair and push her over the gravel driveway. 

“Well this wasn’t actually part of my Friday afternoon plans,” Emma reflected. “But I think it’s gonna be fine.”

“You know it is,” Regina smiled a dazzling smile, and then leaned close to Emma’s ear as she pushed her out towards the minivan. “Also, if you ever say _bitch_ in front of my son again, I will kill you.” 

They all piled into the van – David fixing Emma’s wheelchair safety clasps in place while Henry watched, curious – and Regina took her usual seat in the single way back beside Emma. Maybe it was a little cheesy to admit, but the air felt different today. It felt like something special was happening. 

About half an hour outside Storybrooke, they pulled up on the pine-lined street where Kathryn Spencer’s father spent most of his non-working hours – the houses were all sprawling, detached buildings, very upscale, very wedding-venue. 

Inside, the five of them were led to a wood-panelled foyer decorated with busting floral bouquets and milling with formally-dressed guests Emma vaguely recognised from around town. Of course, her parents more than _vaguely_ recognised most of them, so there was a good ten minutes of small talk. Emma felt as bored as Henry looked. 

Once the initial greetings subsided, Kathryn appeared from around the mahogany-panelled corner, wearing a beautifully subtle wedding dress and practically radiating bubbling excitement. Her face was lit up with nerves and happiness. “Regina!” 

“I’m here,” Regina affirmed, shooting Emma a look over her shoulder before going to greet her friend with a soft smile and a careful hug, quick to spare their dresses. Her dark eyes scanned Kathryn’s blue. “How is everything, are we all on schedule?”

“Running smoothly.” Kathryn confirmed with a nod. She shot a quick glance over Regina’s shoulder at Emma and her parents and Henry, then back to Regina. “But I think we need you now. We’re set to walk in twenty minutes.” 

“Okay,” Regina nodded, giving Kathryn’s hand a squeeze. “Just give me a minute to talk to Henry and I’ll be there.”

“Done.” Kathryn’s voice was breathy, her lips a constant smile. “I’ll be down there with the others.”

Regina turned back to her family, hurrying over the hardwood floors, heels clacking. “Right,” she said. “I have to go and see to Kathryn with the other bridesmaids now.” She glanced between Mary Margaret and David, and then at Emma. “Can you all keep an eye on Henry for me? I asked for him to be sitting with you for the ceremony, but I’ll be right –”

“Regina,” Emma said, green eyes tracking hers. A relaxed half-smile curled at her lips. “Relax. We got this. Right, kid?” She paused, shooting a look at Henry, who was frowning and adjusting his tie. “Hey! Kid.”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry looked up, then flashed a grin too big for his face. “We got this.” 

Regina didn’t know whether to laugh or despair that her son was repeating Emma’s words again. 

Mary Margaret, apparently sensing her thoughts, gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Regina. We’ll look after him.”   
“Thank you,” 

David clapped her on the arm before she turned to follow Kathryn down the hallway to where the bride and other bridesmaids were preparing for the impending walk down the aisle, and it felt surprisingly like acceptance, and family. “Go get ‘em,” He said, with a wink, and it was a motion and a phrase she’d so often seen him give to Emma it put a smile on Regina’s lips. 

“I’ll see you at the wedding then,” Regina said, kneeling to pull Henry into a quick hug. She pulled back, scanning his small face for any imperfection. As always, there was none. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, and straightened his tie one last time. 

“Be good.” She told him, before she strung her little bag higher on her shoulder and hurried off the way Kathryn had gone.   
Soon after, Emma and the others were herded out through the sprawling back porch with the rest of Storybrooke’s formally-dressed finest. “Come on, kid,” Emma intoned to Henry, letting him take the handles of her chair and push her out down into the warm spring air of the garden with the others. 

Garlands of flowers had been hung on the patio, and there were fairy lights strung the whole way down the grassy path to the gazebo where the ceremony would take place. The gazebo actually turned out to be little more than a spindly cast-iron bandstand, but wound with spring flowers erupting colour it was a picture-perfect setting. In front of the stand, folding garden chairs had been set up in row upon row, clear aisle running down the middle. 

A greying woman – Kathryn’s mother? Emma didn’t know her – was taking charge of seating everyone, and she made sure Emma’s chair was parked up in one of the front rows, and that Henry sat beside her. Mary Margaret and David however, were in the row behind. After a few minutes, Frederick, the groom, appeared with a self-deprecating smile and handshakes from people who could physically give handshakes. 

Emma watched with a smile and a spring breeze in her curled hair, exchanging sarcastic comments with Henry under her breath.   
“When’s it gonna start?” Henry asked her after a while of this, a hint of a whine creeping into his voice. 

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “It’s pretty, though.” 

“I guess,” Henry didn’t seem too satisfied. It was funny, actually, sitting next to this kid alone for the first time since he’d broke into her house to tell her his mom loved her. What was even funnier was the sudden realisation that one of Emma’s best friends wasn’t yet ten. 

After a few minutes of sitting chatting to the kid, the music started up from behind them, filling the bright spring air. 

Emma couldn’t tear her eyes away from Regina as she walked down the floral aisle. She was paired with some groomsman Emma didn't know, holding a bunch of flowers that matched the other bridesmaids. Her dark hair bounced on her shoulders with every step. She knew she was supposed to be looking at the bride, but she didn’t think she could if she tried. Regina was just so beautiful – and time hadn’t made that less remarkable to Emma. If anything, being away from her so long just made Emma more in awe of her. _God._ Regina was right that day in the hospital, when she’d said she wasn’t even trying to stay away from her anymore. How could she?

Regina was _so_ gorgeous, and the day was so perfect, and Emma was so completely, utterly, totally, irrevocably gone. 

She was just staring, transfixed still, as Regina took her place beside the other bridesmaids, standing to the left of the gazebo, when she was yanked from her trance by a bony little elbow against her shoulder. 

“Hey –” Emma muttered, indignant. She tried to keep her voice low, not wanting to interrupt the ceremony. The minister was beginning to drone on. “What was that for?”

“That was so your eyes didn’t pop out of your head,” Henry whispered in her ear. He wrinkled his nose. “Seriously, you’re practically dribbling.”

“No I’m not –” Emma protested indignantly. 

Henry wasn’t having any of it. “Yeah you are,” He told her. “It’s really gross.”

Unable to come up with a grown up answer, Emma _shh_ ed him. “Shhh.” She whispered. “You're interrupting the wedding.” 

Emma heard the little boy make a tiny incredulous noise just like the one she’d heard from his mom a thousand times and couldn’t help but smile. They both shut up though as soon as Kathryn and Frederick were joining hands at the altar, and Regina and the other bridesmaids were filing into the front row seats. 

Emma caught Regina’s eye as she came over, dark hair bouncing on her shoulders, small smile playing over her red lips, and sat down next to her - Emma’s wheelchair parked up beside her seat. Henry was on his mother’s other side. Emma tried to control herself when Regina’s perfume hit her nose. 

Regina turned to her and gave her a dazzling smile, and Emma’s stomach fluttered like mad. After that she calmed down a bit, sitting there quietly watching the rest of the ceremony. 

Once the ceremony was over, Emma was left with Henry again so Regina could be in the photographs with the other bridesmaids, in various combinations. Emma was sort of tempted to just hang around and watch Regina smile for the camera, but then she realised that was kind of creepy, and instead followed Henry and her parents up to the house, where the wedding breakfast would be held. 

It was a beautiful day, and a beautiful evening soon followed. 

The marquee at the top of the garden had been filled with golden fairy lights, strung in a glowing spiders web across the canvas ceiling and twining around the tent poles. A decadent buffet had been laid out on pushed-together tables at one end, seating and smaller tables arranged around a makeshift dancefloor in the centre. 

There was a definite energy in the air, a warm easy feeling that started from the bride and groom and spiralled outwards. The evening drew on, conversations sparked, and the dancefloor was filled with a rotating cast of happy couples and drunk uncles. 

Regina was in high demand – sharing a table with Kathryn and her mother one minute, courteously accepting a dance from the bride’s elderly grandfather, making sure Henry was getting alone with the other children – but she still found time to chat with Mary Margaret and David. And Emma. 

Emma, for her part, was chipping in with Henry too. Not only had she been keeping an extra eye on him all night, but she was also currently _dancing_ with him. Not dancing like she danced with Regina in her lap, but dancing with Henry standing on the footrests of her wheelchair with her while she spun them around frantically. 

Regina smiled, leaning back against one of the marquee poles and folding her arms over her chest. She watched Henry and Emma dancing in the soft golden light, Emma’s face lit up with a smile, blonde hair spinning around as she twirled the boy about on her chair. Henry was laughing. Around them, other people were dancing or standing about holding champagne flutes and talking. They fit right in. 

After a while, Henry hopped off and ran over to attack the buffet once more, and Regina couldn’t help the skip of her heart when Emma’s wheelchair turned around, and the blonde’s green eyes met hers while she wheeled herself over. Regina shifted against the marquee, matching Emma’s look. 

“Hey,” Emma said, with an easy smile. 

“Hey.” Regina replied smoothly. 

Emma’s sparkling green eyes never left hers as she wheeled herself up beside her. In the warm light, her pale skin was bright and her hair shone gold. She looked beautiful, and happy, and confident. Nothing like the woman she’d first met all those months ago. She was perhaps the most at ease Regina had ever seen her. 

“I think your kid wore me out,” Emma told her, one golden eyebrow cocked. “But I can’t be sure. Wanna dance?”

Regina fought to contain a laugh. “What?” She shot the other woman a look. “You’re making your away around the Mills family tree?”

“Eh, I think I’ll stop at you.” Emma scrunched her nose, then gave Regina a conspiratory look. “I can live without your mom stepping on my toes.” 

“I’m pretty sure she already did that.” Regina reminded her, then remembered to keep her cool. “Anyway, who’s to say I want to dance? I’m quite happy over here.”

“Oh, please.” Emma rolled her eyes. “You know what you’re doing, standing there all cool and aloof. I know your game.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Well, it seems to have worked on you...” 

“That says more about me than you. What kind of lesbian would I be if I left a gorgeous lady standing all by herself at the edge of the dancefloor? And you forgot.” Emma shot her a look that Regina felt all the way down to her toes. “I can always tell when you’re lying.”

Regina paused, mouth open to make some kind of snarky comment. Something in her chest was turning over and over. What were they doing? This was like their banter at the hospital, amplified. _Get a grip, Regina _, she snapped at herself, annoyed at her lack of control.__

__“Fine,” Regina allowed lightly, cocking a dark eyebrow. “One dance. But _only_ if you promise to have some class about it.” _ _

__“Do I ever show anything else?” Emma asked, mock thoughtful, but the smile playing over her lips was real. She motioned with her head for Regina to join her, the way she’d done all that time ago at the Christmas ball. “Come on. Hop on.”_ _

__Regina threw caution to the wind and did as she said. She followed Emma out onto the fringes of the dancefloor, pausing a second before dropping down into Emma’s lap and winding her arms loosely around her shoulders._ _

__Emma was wearing a smug grin despite the writhing mass of nerves and excitement in her stomach. She lifted her chin to meet Regina’s eyes, challenging. “Come on. Do it properly.”_ _

__Regina gave her a questioning look. The next song was beginning to start – some sappy indie-pop ballad, wedding-typical. Around them, a few new couples had taken to the dancefloor. Emma nearly rolled her eyes, and then clarified, “Put my arm around your waist.”  
Regina made an incredulous noise in the back of her throat, but she did what Emma asked. Both women were equally affected by being back in this position after so long, back where they always seemed to end up – right back together. _ _

__As the music swelled and the vocals began, Emma used her free hand to push the wheelchair buttons smoothly as she could, turning them abruptly to the left and back again. She worked up a sort of rhythm, chair spinning them haphazardly to the music. Regina was trying not to laugh. Emma was trying not to laugh. A familiar feeling popped and fizzed between them like champagne bubbles._ _

__After a while, Regina noticed something out of the corner of her eye, as the chair creaked and turned them back towards the buffet table – Mary Margaret and David Nolan, standing close together and watching them with matching smiles and exchanging glances and whispers._ _

__Regina nodded discreetly towards them over Emma’s shoulder. “Don’t look now, but your parents are staring at us.”_ _

__“I know.” Emma admitted, cheek close to Regina’s. “They’ve been watching for the last couple of minutes.”_ _

__“Seriously?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Emma seemed unfazed. She was talking in a hushed voice, like she was trying to keep their conversation totally private and theirs. “I think they’re betting on us.”_ _

__“On what?” Regina asked. Emma gave her a _are you serious_ look, and she had to admit, she already knew. She had done for a while now. _ _

__They ‘danced’ until the end of the song, and the next one, until Kathryn called Regina over to meet her parents, and Emma found herself sipping champagne through a straw with Ruby – the evening drew on, later and later, and eventually Emma and Regina and Henry gravitated back towards one another like magnets._ _

__The three of them ate together, laughed, took turns dancing in every combination. It was late by the time Henry had ran off with the other children again to cause some more mischief, and Emma finally worked up the courage to motion with her head for Regina to follow her, and wheel herself outside the marquee and into the garden._ _

__Outside, the spring evening was still and glassy, the night sky swollen with stars. All the way down the manicured garden path and through the tree branches, fairy lights were strung up in bright gold webs. It was warm enough, but a cool breeze wound through the air._ _

__Regina followed Emma with anticipation thrumming through her body, shivering a little as she came outside. There were people milling around the patio in clusters, and further down the garden. When they were finally off on their own, she met Emma’s eyes and tilted her head. “What?”_ _

__“I’m gonna need you to get back down here again,” Emma told her apologetically. She nodded down towards her chair. The metal shone in the starlight._ _

__“Okay,” Regina allowed warily, smoothing down her dress and trying to keep her dignity as she sat back down in Emma’s lap. Despite the breeze, Emma radiated warmth, and something else, some magnetic pull she couldn’t quite fight. Or maybe she just didn’t want to. Emma didn’t speak until she was settled._ _

__“Can I tell you a secret?” Emma whispered, green eyes dancing._ _

__Regina leaned close, a wary hint of a smile on her features. “What?”_ _

__Emma breathed in and tilted her head so her mouth was close to Regina’s ear, and she could smell the familiar fragrance of her dark hair. She waited a couple of heartbeats before she spoke. “The tests were positive.”_ _

__Regina pulled back a little, dark eyes shining. Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?” Her heart was pounding. “You can have the surgery?”_ _

__“I can have the surgery,” Emma confirmed. She was still whispering, but a small, slow smile was crawling over her lips and lighting up her eyes. She was staring at the other woman with this soft intensity, this sparking energy, and the moment held for a long time._ _

__Before Regina could say anything, Emma’s fingers closed clumsily around the button on the armrest, and the wheelchair jerked to life, suddenly buzzing loudly as it carried them down the uneven path, fast._ _

__“Emma!” Regina cried, and her incredulous gasp filled Emma’s ears, clinging suddenly tighter onto the blonde for dear life. “Where are we going?”_ _

__Emma laughed, overwhelmed with the feeling of having Regina so close to her again, having her arms around her and the smell of her in her nose and the feel of her in her heart, and she nudged her mouth closer to Regina’s ear when she answered; breathless, certain. “On an adventure.”_ _

__The path down the garden was bumpy, and jolted Regina against Emma with every crag and crevice. Above them, the sky was filled with a blizzard of stars, almost as bright as the fairy lights strung all the way down the moonlit garden. The music from the gazebo spilled down over the lawns, following them as they headed away from the last stragglers._ _

__Fresh, warm night air rushed over Regina’s skin and blew through her hair, and her chest was fizzing like champagne bubbles. The cherry tree at the end of the garden was strung with fairy lights. It was under the star-swollen branches Emma finally let the wheelchair come to a stop, breathless, giving one last stab of a button so they spun around before they finally came to a stand still._ _

__“Emma,” Regina protested again, pulling herself even closer to keep from falling. She sounded breathless, she felt drunk – she’d only had one glass of wine. This was a different kind of drunk altogether._ _

__Emma laughed, high on the stars and the music and the champagne and the feeling of Regina’s arms wound around her neck, the sight of her beautiful, wine-flushed face so close to hers._ _

__They were both trying to catch their breath, chests rising and falling out of time, and Regina’s arms were still draped around her neck. They were so close – Emma could see the reflection of the stars in her eyes, smell the champagne on her lips, feel her ragged breath against her face._ _

__The gentle blizzard of light around them softened all their hard edges, turning everything soft and golden. Gold-tinged orbs of light danced over her skin. Regina was so beautiful, and when she bit her lip like that, Emma knew she was a goner. She’d never been anything else._ _

__“Emma,” Regina said again, and her voice was quieter and more serious, her dark eyes shining intently. They never left hers for a moment._ _

__After a moment, one of Regina’s hands found its way down to the front of Emma’s shoulder, the other warm against her neck. One of thumbs absently drew circles on the skin there, where she knew Emma could feel it. When her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned in, Emma could feel the kiss before it happened._ _

__Regina’s chest brushed against Emma’s, and her hands were soft and careful, and her perfume smelled like home. Her lips had just barely touched Emma’s before the blonde pulled away._ _

__Emma opened her eyes and ducked her head to break the kiss with a sharp intake of breath. The cool night air was welcome against her warm face. “Wait, Regina –” Her voice was soft and apologetic, and it took everything in her to look back up at the other woman._ _

__Regina was still sitting in her lap, and her hand still rested on Emma’s shoulders, but she’d pulled back a little further. The breeze toyed with stands of her dark hair, blowing them around her face. She looked confused, and somehow exposed, her wide dark eyes shining and vulnerable, lips slightly parted._ _

__Emma studied her for a second, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring look. She wanted to tell her she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she wasn’t sure how. “Not now.” She breathed in, brows drawing together slightly. “Not yet.”_ _

__If Regina was upset, she didn’t show it. She just looked confused, more than anything. “Okay,” the brunette said, in a small voice._ _

__“Hey,” Emma caught her eye and didn’t have to force the smile. Acting on impulse, she leaned forward to press her lips to Regina’s cheek for a second, two, three. When she pulled back, she found herself smiling even wider. “To be continued, okay?”_ _

__“Okay,” Regina shivered, glancing away as she breathed in. Goosebumps prickled along her bare arms._ _

__It was that little detail that broke Emma from her trance of staring and savouring. “Shit,” She said, green eyes running over Regina’s small frame and delicate dress, full of concern. “Are you cold?”_ _

__“I – Not much,” Regina assured her, but Emma was already searching for her wrap, fallen into her lap hours ago._ _

__“Take my shawl,” Emma told her. Her voice was still hushed and gentle, but there was something about it that told Regina she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You’re probably sitting on it –”_ _

__“Emma, I really don’t need you to –” Regina tried to protest, but Emma didn’t stop talking until she relented, leaning away a little to find the shawl in question – thick, silky, embroidered with flowers in gold thread – and dig it out from between them._ _

__“There,” Emma said, once she was Regina had it in her hands. “Now wrap it around you.”_ _

__Regina stared incredulously at the other woman, struggling to put together the words for a competent protest. “Emma –”_ _

__“Come on, Regina, put it around yourself.” Emma told her firmly. And then her starlit gaze softened, and her breath caught in her throat a second. “You know I can’t do it for you yet, so you’re just going to have to be fair with me.”_ _

__Regina held her gaze for a long time before lifting up the shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders, where it was, admittedly, a welcome warmth. _Yet_. The smell of Emma’s perfume lingered on the fabric. She couldn’t help but smile a little, pulling the fabric tighter around herself._ _

__“There,” Emma said. “Better?”_ _

__“Better.” Regina admitted. There was a warm stirring feeling in her stomach. It spread up to her chest with the way Emma was looking at her, the smell of her perfume, until her cheeks were hot._ _

__She held Emma’s gaze, and Emma wished she didn’t because _god_ , she wanted to kiss her again. It was like she was twelve again, this fight for self control. She wanted to grab her and kiss her and not stop until all she could feel, all she could taste, think, _breathe_ was Regina. And she would, she reminded herself. In time. _To be continued_. _ _

__Thankfully, Regina cleared her throat and spoke up before she could do something she would regret. “We should probably get back...”_ _

__“Can we just stay here?” Emma asked. She suddenly felt almost vulnerable. Exposed. Like she was laying all her cards on the table, even though she wasn’t really saying anything at all. “Just a little longer.”_ _

__“Okay,” Regina said softly, waiting a second before leaning back in against the other woman and resting her head gently in the crook of Emma’s neck._ _

__And just like that, it was fine. That was _Regina’s_ last card, and she had played it. Neither woman said anything else after that – they didn’t have to._ _

__There, sitting in Emma’s lap in her wheelchair, legs hanging awkwardly over the armrest, Emma’s head resting against hers, Emma’s shawl around her shoulders, Regina could barely remember a time she’d felt more at peace than she did then. Above them, the wide open sky was bright with a million stars, and the fairy lights strung through the budding tree branches were just as bright._ _

__Up the other end of the garden, the gold light from the marquee washed over the lawns and the flower bushes, and Regina could see people standing about in clusters with glasses of champagne, laughing, talking. The spring air was warm, despite the breeze that wound through their hair. Music spilled down the garden, quiet by the time it reached them._ _

__Regina sighed happily, and Emma rested her head against hers. They only stayed there under that starlit tree for a moment longer, but the moment seemed to last for hours._ _

__Emma called up the hospital two days later, and the date for the first operation was booked._ _


	35. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is late (and short)! Last week was totally exhausting, but I’m back on track again. 
> 
> I can’t believe how much of this story I’ve written now, and how amazing all of you reading and supporting me are! I love each and every one of you

The rest of the days sandwiched between Kathryn’s wedding and Emma’s operation felt like the days between Christmas and New Years – they all blurred together, similar, forgettable, bleeding through the lines on the calendar. 

Regina still wasn’t sure how any of it was possible. 

A year ago she was sitting in a penthouse in Portland, stressing over late files and if Henry had made any friends at school and barely caring when Robin didn’t come home. Three months ago she was sitting on the kitchen floor with Henry, certain she wouldn’t have anything to do with Emma Swan ever again. 

And now here she was, standing in her bedroom, putting together an overnight bag for the hospital. Emma kept insisting she didn’t need to stay with her – both her parents would probably end up sleeping in the cramped hospital ward, and it was only one night anyway. But not staying was no longer an option. It never had been. 

Regina frowned, carefully stowing the airplane pillow into the bag. It couldn’t hurt – she was pretty sure she needed a chiropractor after last time she fell asleep in one of those godawful hospital chairs. The surgery wasn’t for a couple of days yet, but she wanted to be prepared. The last thing she needed on the actual day was to be stressing about whether or not she had a toothbrush. 

She’d already arranged for Kathryn to come and watch Henry that night too – she said it was okay since Frederick was out of town that weekend anyway. Regina would be back early the next morning too, providing the surgery went smoothly. 

It never entered anyone’s minds to question why Regina was such a big part of the process – she just was. 

That afternoon, after she picked Henry up from school, she got to work fixing him a snack and making herself a coffee while he sat at the kitchen table, legs swinging while he puzzled over his homework. He was going on about some plan he and his friends had to go searching for pirate treasure on the beach now the sun was out longer. 

“’Cause Nick said that Ava said there’s definitely treasure buried near the canneries because that was where the pirates used to dock.” Henry was saying. The robot eraser on the end of his pencil bobbed as he wrote. “Is that true?”

“Maybe you’ll have to investigate and see,” Regina replied diplomatically, opening the cupboard for a coffee cup. “It sounds very exciting to me.”

“No it doesn’t,” Henry said, pencil pausing as he frowned at the worksheet. “You hate pirates. What’s the square root of sixty four?”

“Eight,” Regina said, pouring the coffee. “But next time you need to work it out yourself.”

“Okay,” Henry agreed, head down again. Regina added a splash of milk to her mug and put the carton back in the fridge. “Anyway, Nick wants to go looking on Saturday. And then I said that maybe if you’re okay with it and Aunty Kathryn doesn’t mind picking me up I could go and I’d let him know,” Henry explained, not looking up from his homework. “Is that okay?”

Suddenly, Regina was hit with a wave of guilt and anxiety. _Damn it_. She thought the worst of this feeling was over. It was just the sound of his voice – so happy and casual, like asking Kathryn was just the normal thing to do, when the truth was it should be _Regina_ picking him up and doing these things for him. She sighed, setting down her teaspoon.

“Yes – yes, that’s fine. Regina managed to speak before the voice in her head started up again. She turned around and stared at him, catching his gaze with a sharp intake of breath and a furrow between her brows. “Look, Henry, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

“Okay,” Henry shrugged his skinny shoulders, watching as Regina came and pulled up a chair opposite him at the kitchen table. “What’s up?”

“Henry...” Regina trailed off. She set her coffee down in front of her, hands wrapped loosely around the warmth of the cup. “You know that Emma’s about to have a _big_ operation, and after that she’ll have another one, and I have to be there for her.”

Henry nodded, big eyes bright. 

She breathed in, carefully studying his face. “But I just want you to know that I’m going to find a way to balance Emma and you. I don’t care what my mother or anyone says. There’s enough room in my life for both of you. There’s enough of me for both of you, for all of us.”

“Mom.” Henry said, big eyes bright and trained on hers. “It’s okay.”

“I –” Regina frowned at him. “What?”

Henry paused a second. “Emma needs you more than I do now.” He told her, voice filled with childish sincerity. “Anyway, I knew all that already.”

Regina stared at him, blown away for the thousandth time by the incredible complete person sitting across from her. “You did?”

“Sure.” Henry assured her easily. “We’re a family. And that means we don’t have to fight or share or sacrifice anything. We just... are.” 

Seemingly unaware of his mother’s awestruck stare, Henry shrugged and flashed a crooked grin. “Can we get pizza tonight?” 

Regina faltered for a moment, still totally baffled by this incredible wonderful human being she’d somehow created. How could he be so perceptive, wise even, and then switch back to being a child again in a second? Still not over it, she just nodded, and smiled. “Okay.” Regina allowed. “Just this once.” 

“And... can Emma come over and have some too?” Henry asked, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. 

Regina smiled again, incredulous. “If that’s what you want,”

“Cool,” Henry looked up at her for another minute before suddenly jumping up from his chair and pulling her after him, launching himself at her in a tight hug. His skinny arms wrapped around her middle and squeezed her close, his head burrowing into her chest. “Thanks, Mom.” He told her, voice muffled by the hug. “You’re the best.” 

Regina’s brows drew together slightly. All of a sudden, there was a lump in her throat and a weight in her chest and tears stinging behind her eyes. She smiled, tentative arms pulling him closer. Her fingers brushed absently through his hair. “So are you, Henry.” She swallowed. _So are you_. 

“Awesome,” Henry gave her a final squeeze, and then untangled himself from her with a toothy grin. “I’m gonna go make Emma a card!”  
And he charged off, leaving Regina standing there marvelling over him, and everything that had happened over the last year. 

True to her word, she _did_ let him order pizza that night, plus all the trimmings – garlic bread, salad, dip – it wasn’t often Regina let him splurge on junk food, so he might as well enjoy it when she did. She texted Emma too, just a quick message telling her she could come over or pizza if she wanted, but she didn’t expect her to. Surely she’d want to be with her own family this close to the surgery. 

So it was a surprise when, after settling down in the den with Henry to find something on TV, her phone buzzed obnoxiously on the coffee table – Regina’s brows drew together as she reached for it, confused as to who would be texting her so late. A small smile appeared on her lips when she saw who it was from, and it grew when she read the three words they’d sent her. _Open the door_. 

“I’ll be right back,” Regina told Henry, biting back a smile as she got to her feet and headed out into the foyer. Her heart was racing. _God, you’re being ridiculous_ , she told herself, but she couldn’t help it. 

She opened the door and was met with a rush of crisp spring evening air, and Emma Swan, looking up at her with a lazy half-smile and fading sunlight in her golden hair. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Regina replied, trying to fight back a smile. Outside, the sun was going down, final wash of orange light spilling down the deserted street and casting long shadows over the garden. She paused, wondering what else to say. “We’ve got pizza coming.”

“So I’ve heard.” Emma said. Green eyes darted up to meet Regina’s. “Are you going to invite me in?” 

Regina snapped out of whatever thought she’d been lost in, nodding. “Right –” She stepped through the door and around the back to push Emma into the foyer. “Come on.” 

When she turned around to close the door, she heard Emma’s wheelchair making its familiar noises over the hardwood floors and remembered all those nights like this one, just sitting around with Henry, watching TV or talking about anything. 

“Emma!” Henry cried happily, suddenly skidding around the corner in his socks. “You came!” 

An easy grin came over Emma’s face as she wheeled herself closer to him. “Course I did.” She pushed after him into the den, and Regina followed closely. “Wasn’t gonna say no to pizza, was I?” She paused, smirk playing over her lips. “And I guess you two aren't bad either.” 

So they fell back into their old routine, easy as anything, the three of them piled onto the couch reaching across each other to share food straight out of the box (Emma insisted it was part of the experience, and Regina had learned not to argue when it was two against one).  
Outside the open window, the sky turned from orange to pink to purple and the stars began to appear one by one. None of them noticed. They were back in their bubble – still, safe, faraway from the outside world. 

After a few hours, Henry fell asleep, head falling back against the arm of the couch. The pizza boxes were left abandoned on the floor, scattered with the odd crust or salad leaf. Somehow over the course of the evening, Regina and Emma had shifted with all the blankets and cushions, so Emma was half lying back against the couch, and Regina’s legs were tangled with hers, practically in her lap. But that didn’t mean anything. It was a small couch, after all. It was full dark out, the only light coming from the dim lamp in the corner. A slow, sleepy energy had come over the room. 

“You’ve got someone to pick you up?” Regina asked softly, after a while. She shifted around to meet Emma’s eyes. “I don’t want you going back on your own this late.”

“I’m in a wheelchair, Regina, not preschool,” Emma said, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “My dad’s working late anyway. I’ll get a ride with him.”

Regina nodded. “Okay.”

“Hey,” They were so close, she could the warmth of Emma’s whisper on her cheek. “You okay?”

“I’m _excellent_ ,” Regina assured her, still whispering so they wouldn’t wake Henry. She twisted slightly, staring up at Emma. In the dim yellow lamplight, she looked tired and happy and relaxed, green eyes bright and trained on hers. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Regina asked. “About the operation? It’s getting close.”

Emma paused a second, lips open before she answered. “I’m... Good.” She paused, slightest furrow between her eyebrows. “Really good, actually.” She turned to look over at Regina properly. The shadow of her eyelashes fell on her cheekbone. “Thanks to you.”

“Don’t say that,” Regina whispered. On instinct, she reached out to touch Emma’s forearm under the blankets. Her heart was thumping, mind filled with images from Kathryn’s wedding. The lights. The music. _To be continued_. “I’m not...”

“You’ve done more for me than anyone,” Emma told her, bright green eyes never leaving hers. “I’m in a really good place right now. And a lot of that is to do with myself. But a lot of it’s to do with you too, and that kid over there.” 

“Emma...” Regina breathed, unsure what she was going to say. She didn’t remember moving but suddenly they were so close she could feel Emma’s breath on her skin, and she was sure something was about to happen. Their noses bumped. 

“No –” Emma’s brows drew together suddenly, and she pulled back. For a second, with her eyes closed, she looked almost pained. Or like she was reminding herself something. Regina watched and waited for her to look back up at her. “Regina, I –”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Regina hushed, catching Emma’s hesitance. She let her hand trail down the other woman’s cheek. When did that get there? “Let’s just be quiet, for a moment.” 

“Okay,” Emma whispered. Regina could hear her breathing. After a second, just to make sure, Regina shifted herself so that she was lying beside her, letting her head rest on the cushion beside hers. 

Just as she let her eyes close, she felt Emma’s lips press against her forehead. It was just for a second, but the warmth from the kiss spread all down her body and into her toes. 

She couldn’t have said how much time passed with them just laying there like that, leg entwined under the nubby old blanket, faces close together. All around them the air was thick and heavy and quiet, and the only sound was the two of them breathing, two hearts beating out of time. Henry fast asleep the other end of the couch. All of them warm, safe, together. Regina couldn't have said how long they stayed like that, somewhere between sleep and waking, but she knew one thing. _This is what peace feels like._. 

After a while, she felt Emma’s head shifting across from hers and made herself sit upright again. She looked at the blonde - hair now rumpled, green eyes soft and sleepy - with questioning eyes. 

“I have to go,” Emma whispered to her. Her voice was rough. “My dad’s just pulling up outside.” 

“Okay,” Regina nodded, pushing back the blankets carefully so she didn’t disturb Henry before finding the wheelchair and helping Emma back into it. The soft, sleepy energy hung in the air even as she pushed Emma out to the door and knelt to hug goodbye, like the world still couldn’t find them. 

She stood in he open doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched as Emma wheeled herself up the garden to where David’s silhouette was climbing down from the minivan. She watched them get in the van and watched them drive away into the night before she finally closed the door. 

-0-

The morning of Emma’s first operation dawned bright and balmy, a few white clouds skating over a blue sky. 

Emma forced herself to just lay there calm for a moment and get to grips with the day ahead of her. Anticipation squirmed in her stomach. By this time tomorrow, she’d have had the first operation. God, that was a weird thought. None of it even felt real. Although to be honest, nothing did since Regina walked into her life and refused to leave. 

_Regina. God..._ Like the surgery, her recent reconnection with Regina was another thing she hadn’t counted on. It had just happened. No explanation, no over thinking. It was just the done thing. _Spring comes after winter. You dance with Regina at weddings._ She was finding it harder and harder to keep herself distracted and distanced because she never was. But somehow... that didn’t seem to matter anymore.

She glanced up out the window again. It was going to be a nice day. Sunny, and warm. She could hear birds singing in the garden. Spring seemed to drag on for years in Storybrooke, one day hot and the next day drizzling, but this year had been unusually kind. _Beautiful day to have strangers dig around your nerves for a couple of hours_. 

She braced herself, running through the list of positives and possible outcomes in her head over and over, until her alarm was ringing and there was nothing left to do but face the day.

In fact, by the time her dad was wheeling her up around the breakfast table at the main house, she was actually feeling kind of good about the whole ting. Nervous, but good nervous. Breakfast was a jittery kind of affair, toast and orange juice and bad jokes. As soon as her mom sat down, _Daily Mirror_ resting on the table beside her, it started. 

“So how are you feeling?” Mary Margaret asked, leaning across the table with bright eyes, searching for hers. 

Emma swallowed and took a breath. After a second, she nodded slowly. “I’m actually feeling... Good about the whole thing.” She glanced down at her breakfast plate for a second, then back up at her mom. “I know I keep saying that but it’s true. It’s like... even if nothing happens I’m glad I’m trying.”

A smile appeared on Mary Margaret’s face, spreading from her lips to her cheeks to her eyes. “So are we,” She glanced up at her husband, washing the egg pan at the kitchen sink. 

David finished the dishes and came down to sit with them, helping Emma and making jokes while some folksy old song came on the radio. The window was open to let in the sun. By the time they were finished and everything was cleared away, a nervous tingle had started up in Emma’s stomach. It was weird getting on with the day – sitting with her parents, watching TV, talking – it just felt like waiting, like everything was just to kill time. 

As the day drew on, an unstoppable force, Emma’s phone chimed hourly. Messages of good luck and love chimed in from people all over town and outside – from Ruby, from Graham, from Uncle James and Mary Margaret’s assistant and people she hadn’t seen for God only knew how long. 

Every text or phone call or post on her Facebook wall put a fresh spark in her stomach, and just reminded her of how many people she really knew. People who hadn’t forgotten her or given up on her. There was this whole network of people out there, caring.  
Regina’s text was last, supportive in a whole other way than the rest. _I’ll be there in 10_. 

Emma stomach flipped. _God, is it time already?_ She stared up at the clock on the wall – sure enough, it was nearing the time neatly printed on the hospital form and when Mary Margaret bustled back into the living room, she was wearing a jacket and her bag was slung over her arm. Emma’s own overnight bag had been waiting in the minivan for days. 

“It’s nearly time,” Mary Margaret announced, nervous smile on her face. “Your father’s just setting up the van. You want a jacket?”

“Yeah, sure,” Emma said. “Regina’s on her way, I think.”

“Oh good,” Mary Margaret said, going to the coat stand in the corner and digging for Emma’s red leather jacket. “How’s Henry? Has he got care for the night?”

“Yeah, Kathryn’s looking after him,” Emma assured her. 

“Good.” Her mom said, finally coming up with the jacket. “I told her she didn’t need to stay the night but that woman is _impossible_ to argue with –”

Emma snorted. “Tell me about it.” 

Mary Margaret smiled softly, turning around and finding Emma’s eyes. She hesitated a moment before telling her, in small voice, like she was worried she might scare her off - “You got a good one.”

Something in Emma’s chest flipped over. “Yeah,” She said hoarsely, feeling herself smile. 

Before she could say anything else, there was knock on the door and Mary Margaret’s face lit up, a mess of hope and nerves once again. “Speaking of...” She smiled again. “I’m gonna go let her in, okay? You ready?”

Emma nodded. “I’m ready.” 

The drive to the hospital was mostly filled with nervous chatter from her mom, small talking with Regina about Henry and the weather while some cheesy pop song playing on the radio. Emma, for her part, barely took her eyes off Regina, sitting in the backseat beside her, beautiful as ever. She couldn’t stop thinking about the wedding, or the other night, lying with her half-asleep, across from Henry on the couch. She’d nearly told her so much that night – but Emma was starting to think she didn’t need to.

Once they arrived, the receptionist transferred them to a waiting room, and then another, and then the room where Emma would be spending the night after the procedure was complete. It was once they were settled in there – bags and coats strung over the cramped vinyl chairs by the beside – that Mary Margaret and David immediately went on a supply run. Emma wasn’t supposed to eat anything more before the operation, but the other three were going to need coffee from the shop downstairs. 

That was what they _said_ anyway. Emma was pretty sure Mary Margaret just wanted to give her some alone time with Regina. _Not that I’m complaining._

When the door closed behind them, Regina stood from her chair and crossed the linoleum floor, heels on her boots clicking. She turned around by the window to open the blinds. Sunlight flooded in, washing over the floor and shining off the plastic bed rail. 

Emma bit back a smile, watching the light hit Regina’s hair as she turned back around. “That’s better,” The brunette announced, looking around. Emma just watched her a second more. In the weirdest way, she suddenly felt _unbelievably_ happy. Just perfectly content to be there in that hospital room with Regina. To just _be_ with Regina. 

“You wanna know something dumb?” Emma asked suddenly. She glanced up, green eyes meeting Regina’s across the brightly lit hospital room. 

“What?” Regina’s eyes, wide and deep and dark as coffee, found hers and never wavered. She was wearing less make up than usual today – it made her look softer. 

“The reason I didn’t kiss you at the other night – or at the wedding –” Emma broke herself off, almost sighing and almost laughing at how stupid she was. She looked back up at Regina and paused for a second. “I wanted to wait. Until I could... touch you and put my arms around you or whatever.” She paused again. “I thought it would be romantic.”

Regina was staring at her with a look on her face Emma couldn’t quite read. The brunette took a step forward, arms folded over her chest. Her heel clicked loudly on the polished floor. “Emma...”

“I know, it’s stupid,” Emma said, biting back a smile. “That’s probably never gonna happen. Even if it does, it’d take years maybe.”  
Regina didn’t say anything.

“Yeah,” Emma glanced back down at herself. “I’m kind of regretting that now.” 

“Emma,” Regina said again, and as always, the sound of her name on the brunette’s lips made her heart soften. After a second, Regina glanced around to the half-open door to check no nurses were nearby, then crossed the room to fold down the plastic frame and ease herself up onto the hospital bed. Emma stared at her, feeling the mattress sag beneath the weight of them. 

Regina curled her legs up beneath herself on the bed, taking a moment to settle closer opposite Emma. Behind her, the light from the wide open window spilled over her shoulders and found gold in her dark hair. Her dark eyes met Emma’s and a slowly, a small smile appeared on her pink lips. 

“Don’t regret _anything_ ,” Regina told her, shifting forward over the covers and reaching out to slip a hand to Emma’s cheek. She paused, and Emma’s stomach tightened, and for a second she was sure she was going to kiss her. Instead, she dropped the hand and gave her a quick brush on the cheek. 

“And _don’t_ say it probably won’t happen,” Regina told her, voice suddenly crisper and more casual. She fixed Emma with a stern look, brown eyes wide. “You don’t know.” 

“Come on Regina,” It was Emma’s turn to stare. “You can’t believe –”

“ _You_ have to believe or else you wouldn’t be here right now.” Regina told her crisply. She raised a manicured finger to flip her hair back from her face. “You know, I have a good feeling about this.”

“You have a good feeling?” Emma stared at her, one eyebrow cocked. Her green eyes were wide and bright, and the corner of her mouth pulled up in promise of laughter to come. “You? Regina Mills, firm manager, genius, history nerd, are putting your faith in a _feeling_?”

“Well,” Regina bit down coyly on her lip, dancing brown eyes flickering up to meet Emma’s. “It’s worked for me before.”

Emma held her gaze for a minute, stomach fluttering. Eventually, a smile crawled across her lips. “Ah,” She said. She was grinning softly, easily. “I get it.” 

“You certainly do,” Regina agreed softly. 

As they both fell into silence Emma kept looking at her, and she couldn’t deny that there was a feeling in the air between them, rising up like ash off a fire. And sitting there on that hospital bed in the sunlight with their knees touching, Emma understood what Regina meant about faith and feelings and trust. _Maybe we’ll be okay_ , Emma thought. If the surgery worked or not – maybe, just maybe, they’d be okay. 

“Now come on,” Regina breathed in and looked back up across the bed at her, perfect teeth still toying with her bottom lip. A brilliant smile came over her face, and she reached for Emma’s hand. Emma watched her twine their fingers together. “Let’s get this done.”

August came in not long after, in his green scrubs, flanked by Emma’s parents. Regina squeezed her hand. Emma stared between her parents and the nurse, nervous energy zipping and popping through the air.

“Are we all ready?” August asked, glancing between them all. 

Emma swallowed, and nodded. “I’m ready.” 

August nodded. “Well then it’s time to go through.”


	36. Fix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think you all think I'm meaner than I actually am! Anyway, I think this one will make you happy... It certainly did me! 
> 
> As usual, thank you all for reading and sticking with me on this journey!

It was dark outside when Doctor Whale finally came through to tell them that the first operation was finished.

Regina had been sitting in the chair in the corner, under the window, where the blinds were open to reveal a sky full of stars, a smudged half-moon shining light in through the glass. She'd brought a book, but every time she opened it she just found herself staring blankly at the pages, or reading the same paragraph over and over again without taking any of it in.

Mary Margaret and David – taking shifts in the other chair – were just as restless. The three of them had said maybe three words to each other every hour, the mayor's nervous chatter died down after the first hour. They took turns to go downstairs on the coffee run, even though Regina was sure she couldn't have slept if she wanted to.

It was a pretty safe operation, by any standards. She told herself that again and again, but still the mass of nerves in her stomach writhed like snakes. It was that horrible helplessness coming over her again. There was nothing she could do. She was very close to getting up and pacing when the door opened with a creak and Whale's familiar bleached head appeared around the door.

Regina, Mary Margaret and David all sat up straighter as he stepped inside. Regina's heart was pounding, book abandoned in her lap. Her breath caught in her throat. She studied the doctor as quick as she could, brown eyes darting from his placid face to his eyes to the hands buried in the pockets of his white coat.

Mary Margaret glanced at her, catching her gaze with wide green eyes.

Regina swallowed hard, setting aside the book and standing up. She glanced from the others to Whale. "Well?" She demanded, voice rough and tired.

"We're all done," Whale assured them. He breathed out, turning to Emma's parents and then to her. For a moment, the little moonlit hospital room was completely still and silent. And then, "The surgery went smoothly. Everything was how it should be, no complications, no difficulty. There's no telling if it's worked yet, but... I'd say we're on the right track. We'll have to keep her in til the morning but she'll be alright."

Regina exhaled, finally. It felt like she'd been holding her breath for hours. _Thank God _. She stared down at the reflection of moonlight on the polished floor, smallest whisper of a smile on her lips.__

__"They're just bringing her down now," Whale explained, voice a professional mask. He glanced between the three of them. "She's still unconscious at the minute, but she should come to within a few hours. She'll probably be hungry – the shop downstairs is open all night."_ _

__"Thank you," David breathed, normally easy voice almost cracking. Regina glanced across the room at him – there was a smile on his face, and a look in his eyes she'd never seen before. "Thank you."_ _

__"Really, there's no need," Whale smiled briefly. "I'll be back in an hour or so to check in on her." He paused before he left, hand on the doorknob. "You should get some sleep."_ _

__Just a few minutes after he left, the door opened again to the sound of wheels and nurses hushed voices, and Regina's heart jumped into her throat. The door creaked open – David hurried to hold it open, beating her to it._ _

__There were two nurses in scrubs – August, and a woman Regina didn't know – pushing the hospital bed in, its wheels rattling on the floor. They were speaking to Mary Margaret and David, easy, assured words and soft voices but Regina didn't hear any of it. She could hear herself walking over to the hospital cot as August pushed it into position in the middle of the room and fixed down the stops on the wheels._ _

__Underneath a thin white blanket, Emma was lying on the bed, curled slightly on her side. Her hair was still half-up in a ponytail from the surgery, but a few stray strands of blonde hair had escaped to tangle around her face. She was breathing softly in her sleep, chest rising and falling under her white pyjama tank. She looked oddly peaceful, like she was just sleeping._ _

__Regina's hand found the plastic bed rail. The sight of Emma asleep there in front of her, safe and in one piece, made all the nerves in her stomach disappear. _The opposite of fear_ , Regina thought, studying her sleeping so soundly, _isn't joy. It's relief_. She absently reached forward to brush one of the loose strands of hair off Emma's placid face._ _

__After a moment, Regina felt Mary Margaret at her elbow and took a step back to let her see her daughter. She watched the mayor look down at her, this woman who had been the awkward kid she'd been brave enough to take on, at the look on her face._ _

__When she glanced across the bed at David, she saw a similar expression on his – blue eyes wide, almost watery, soft smile creeping over his mouth, and she felt a sudden rush of love. Not just for Emma, but for her parents too, because they'd been instrumental in all of this, and so strong she could hardly believe. If she could be even half of what they were to Emma for Henry, she'd be happy._ _

__Regina stood there for a long time more – they all did – and after a while pulled up her chair closer to the bed, so she could at least try and get some sleep now she knew Emma was okay._ _

__This time, when she closed her eyes, dreams came easy._ _

__-0-_ _

__It was dark when Emma's eyes opened blearily to the other side of the bed._ _

__Her eyelids felt heavy, and her head did too, like a lead weight against the thin hospital pillow. _The hospital. Right_. That was where she was. After. _After_. Emma squeezed her eyes shut for a second, watching patterns dance behind her eyes and feeling herself breathe, in and out, in and out, in and out._ _

__Beneath her, the hospital mattress was firm and unyielding, and the thin blanket was kind of annoying tangled up with her legs. Still, she was warm, and the sheets were soft. Her hair fell in her face, tickling. She lay there, mind struggling to make connections. Her thoughts felt heavy. They took effort._ _

__When she opened her eyes again, they adjusted to the dark after a few moments – she could just make out the small hospital room all around her, the ceiling above her. At one side of her bed, her mom was asleep in one of the blue vinyl armchairs, head resting on a folded-up cardigan as a makeshift pillow. The sounds of her soft snores made Emma's chest loosen._ _

__Across the room, there was a thin slice of silver moonlight coming in from under the blinds, and a strip of it landed on her dad's face – he was sleeping too, lying on another of the hospital issue blankets under the window. His old work boots stood in a corner, next to her mom's purse._ _

__And finally, in the chair the other side of her bed, Regina._ _

__She was curled up in a ball, feet tucked under her. Her head was resting on her shoulder, dark hair falling across her face. In the dark, Emma could just make out the shape of her features._ _

__She knew what she'd just gone through. She knew she still had medication running through her veins, new nerves trying to fix with old broken ones inside of her. And yet somehow, all of that was right. She felt... _Peaceful_. Here, in this bed, surrounded by these people she loved._ _

__Emma let her eyes close again, drifting in between sleeping and waking. It could have been hours later that she found herself staring around the dark hospital room again. The meds must have worn off a little, since her mind was working a little clearer now. She still felt tired, but more than that, the familiar pangs of hunger were churning in her stomach. And she wanted to talk to somebody. She wanted to..._ _

__" _Regina_ ," Emma whispered sharply, trying not to wake her parents. " _Regina_ ,"_ _

__"Hmm?"_ _

__Regina's brows drew together, eyes still closed as she stretched against the chair for a second. After a minute, she ran a hand through her dark hair and Emma knew she was awake. Her dark eyes opened, staring through the darkness. "Emma?" She whispered, voice hushed but alert._ _

__"Yeah," Emma whispered back, blinking a couple of times and finding the brunette's gaze across the room._ _

__"Emma," Regina repeated, this time with a smile spreading over her lips. Despite the dim light from the hallway, she could see her tired eyes were just _lit_ up, sparkling and hopeful._ _

__Sparing barely a glance at the sleeping figures of the others, the brunette unfolded herself from the chair and hurried to kneel at Emma's bedside. Her eyes searched the other woman's face. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"_ _

__"I'm good," Emma said, not thinking what a stupid answer that was, given the circumstances. Regina was staring at her like her life depended on it. "I mean, I feel okay. Tired and kind of out of it but... okay. Like, nothing hurts, you know?"_ _

__"I know," Regina confirmed, nodding with a breathless smile. "Whale came in a few hours ago. Said everything went smoothly. We have nothing to worry about."_ _

__Emma felt a small sleepy smile crawl across her face. "Good."_ _

__"Do you want me to get anything for you?" Regina asked, voice dropped to an even smaller whisper so they didn't disturb the others. "Is there anything you need?"_ _

__Emma didn't have time to think about how stupid her answer sounded until she'd said it. "I'm kind of hungry, actually." _Medication_. _ _

__An incredulous smile appeared on Regina's mouth, like the start of a laugh. In the darkness, she could see one perfect eyebrow arch up. "Seriously?"_ _

__"Yeah," Emma admitted, green eyes hopelessly finding hers._ _

__"Why am I not surprised," The brunette whispered. She paused, glancing back around at David's sleeping figure. "I think we ate all of what we brought with us. I could go down to the hospital shop and get you something if you wanted?"_ _

__"That would be amazing, Regina, thank you," Emma said. "I mean, I'll come with you. You just need to bring my chair over. I could do with the..." Had she really just been about to say _walk_? _ _

__Regina's dark brows drew together slightly. "But what about your parents?"_ _

__"What about them?"_ _

__"Don't you want to talk to them?" Regina asked. She was leaning in closer now. "Tell them you're okay?"_ _

__Emma shook her head dismissively. "Later."_ _

__"Emma," Regina whispered. Her dark eyes were bright with moonlight. "Your parents are going to need to see you. Talk to you."_ _

__"And they will," Emma promised. "In the morning. Look at them, they're both _exhausted_. They deserve at least one good nights sleep. And anyway..." She swallowed. "There's something I have to do first."_ _

__"Okay," Regina nodded in understanding. "I'll get the chair."_ _

__It was standing in the corner of the room ready for the morning, black and gleaming in the moonlight. The brunette wheeled it over as quietly as she could before carefully going about folding down the plastic rail on the hospital bed so she could help Emma down into the chair. Her hands were soft when they brushed her skin._ _

__Once Emma was in, Regina insisted on digging in her purse for a notepad and writing a quick note to Mary Margaret and David telling them they'd gone to get food and they'd be back soon, just in case. Emma watched her write, smiling all the while, even though she knew her parents would sleep like rocks now everything was okay. It was cute._ _

__"We can go now," Regina whispered, taking the wheelchair handles and gently pushing Emma over the polished floor and out into the corridor. Emma winced at the sudden bright lights, fluorescent strips buzzing above her._ _

__They fell into a soft silence as Regina navigated the white-walled maze of hospital corridors and hallways, past abandoned waiting rooms. The wheels of her chair whirred on the floor. When they passed a nurse walking between wards, the exchanged smiles, but nothing else._ _

__Sitting in her chair, being pushed through a hospital at night, wearing a tank top, plaid pyjama bottoms and Space Invaders socks, Emma couldn't help thinking this was nice. Yes, the hallways were claustrophobic and too bright and smelled of bleach. Sure, she was pretty woozy from the anaesthetic and too tired to even say, but it was _nice_. _ _

__It was _nice_ to have Regina behind her, pushing her, all soft and sleepy and full of hope. Her dark hair was tousled around a face free of make-up, her clothes comfy and rumpled where she'd slept in them. She could hear her breathing. The sound of it was as familiar to Emma as a favourite song._ _

__The distance between her ward and the shop was fair enough, but she was glad. When Regina pushed the button for the elevator, and it arrived with a beep, Emma couldn't help remembering being in this elevator with her before, at every monthly check up. She smiled a little at the memory._ _

__And when they reached the hospital shop, a crammed little On The Go next to the hospital café, and Regina pushed her down the stubby little aisles, Emma could just feel her heart relaxing, somehow._ _

__"How about something for the morning, too?" Regina asked, one hand pushing Emma, the other holding the blonde's late-night selections – crackers, bottled water, a PBJ. Her voice was heavy with tiredness. "I can get some fruit? Yoghurt?"_ _

__Emma's eyes caught on a familiar red package on one of the shelves. The bright lights were making her zone out a little. "They have Lucky Charms."_ _

__"I'm not getting you Lucky Charms," Regina said, and Emma could hear the start of a laugh in her voice. It was infectious. It bubbled up in her chest like champagne. "You can have Mini Weetabix."_ _

__Emma was grinning to herself now, just smiling down at her lap. "You haggle like a pro, Mills."_ _

__"I raised a little boy, Emma." Regina replied, picking up a package of Weetabix. "I think I can negotiate my breakfast cereals."_ _

__"Nah," Emma closed her eyes a second as Regina pushed her towards the counter. "You just know I can't say no to you."_ _

__Regina paid for their strange groceries, hanging the bag on one of Emma's wheelchair handles as she wheeled her back out into the corridor. She was tired – she'd barely been asleep an two hours before Emma woke her up – but never in her life had she been more happy to be awake._ _

__They made it down one corridor before Emma spoke again, her voice rough and sleepy, but certain. "Come on, 'Gina." She craned her neck slightly, trying to catch Regina's eye. "I can't let you push this late." Emma blew a strand of hair off her face and her genuine green eyes leapt up to meet hers. "You know what to do."_ _

__Regina stared at her for a second, hopelessly and endlessly amazed by this woman, and then nodded. She was too tired to argue.  
Instead, she made sure the shopping bag was hooked securely on the chair before coming around to join Emma in the chair. Some distant part of her knew this was silly – and maybe it was the lack of sleep, but the rest of her just naturally went with it. _The sky is blue. You sit in Emma's lap going back to the ward._ Their legs brushed together. As ever, they fit together like puzzle pieces._ _

__They carried on back up like that, Regina's hand covering Emma's on the wheelchair buttons. When they got to the elevator Regina leaned over to push the button, and it made Emma want to laugh._ _

__They were nearly back at the ward when, slowly, Emma came to a stop. The wheelchair's soft whirr died down to a hum, standing still in the middle of the empty hospital hallway. It was completely silent._ _

__After a second, Regina turned her head, brown eyes searching Emma's green. They were close. Impossibly close. She could feel Emma's warmth seeping into her, filling her up. Her breath was against Emma's skin. It felt so natural to be this close, and at the same time such a privilege._ _

__Emma exhaled slowly as she turned her head down to meet Regina's gaze. Now their noses were touching. Now their hands – Regina's fingers crept over hers, threading their fingers together. She could see it._ _

__She let herself take a moment to study Regina's face, green eyes tracking over the soft lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the shape of her lips, the colour of her eyes. Coffee and melting chocolate. She made herself take in each curling eyelash, and the colour of her skin, oddly vulnerable-looking without make-up._ _

__And then they were kissing. Emma craning her head down, Regina leaning up, breath shaking, eyes fluttering shut. It was a soft, sleepy sort of kiss. The sort of kiss that has all the time in the world. Emma's lips moved clumsily against hers, and Regina's answered slow and sleepy._ _

__It wasn't the kind of kiss that broke open the sky – they'd had those. It was the kind of kiss that felt like coming home._ _

__When finally they came up for air, Emma let her forehead rest against Regina's. Regina's thumb drew soft circles on Emma's palm. Emma felt her brow crease when she closed her eyes, staying as close as she could to the woman who had come into her life like a hurricane and ended up being her sunlight._ _

__They stayed there like that for a while, in the middle of the empty hospital corridor, foreheads touching, ankles crossing, cradled into each other, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out._ _

__When at last Emma pushed down on the button to take them around the corner and back down into her ward, Regina's arms were wrapped around her, and her head was buried in her neck, and somehow she had the feeling that no matter what happened to her body, she could survive anything._ _


	37. An Offical Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, posting on time for once! Even if this one’s just a little interlude between operations. 
> 
> As always, thank all of you so much for reading!

In the weeks after the first operation and before the second, Regina found herself gravitating more and more to the mayor’s house, and to Emma. 

The surgery had gone smoothly – that was certain. Whale had discharged Emma from the hospital the morning after the operation, and after a few sleepy recovery days, the blonde seemed back on top form. Of course, there wouldn’t be any sign of whether or not it had worked until after the second part of the surgery. 

There was a feeling of anticipation in the air. Of waiting to see an outcome that might take weeks or months or years. Regina woke up every morning with the most juvenile fluttery feeling in her stomach – although whether that was about the operation or the kiss, she didn’t know. 

_The kiss. Their_ kiss. _The best second first kiss there’s ever been_ , Emma had called it, on one of their late night phone calls. They’d had a lot of those since the operation – Regina found herself more and more often sitting up in bed, covers pulled over her knees, laughing at Emma on speakerphone until both their voices turned slow and rough and tired and the next thing she knew it as two am.

She found herself at the house more often too – she might as well have been back working there for all the days she ended up on Mary Margaret’s couch, helping to cook or listening David and Emma’s war stories about law enforcement in Storybrooke. Without words, without acknowledgement, without effort, Regina had become part of their family again. And so had Henry. 

He’d end up there with her, knowing to walk to the Nolans house after school, sitting on the carpet and laughing about something dumb Emma was doing. But it was more than that: it was David and Mary Margaret too. David would play video games with him and tell stories, Mary Margaret made him laugh, and he helped her garden the same way he helped Regina. 

Regina hadn’t ever really thought about it before but... in the mayor and her husband, Henry had found a second pair of grandparents. Robin’s parents died before Henry was born, and though Daddy loved him with all his heart, Mother’s grandparenting skills left as much to be desired as her parenting. 

It never failed to put a smile on her face, and a feeling in her heart like maybe she hadn’t let him down, and maybe she never would.   
It was one of those days – a sunny Saturday – that Mary Margaret had the idea. 

“David,” She said, walking back into the sunlit den with her phone in her hand. Her dark eyebrows were slightly furrowed. “James just called. He says he’s finally free for that dinner.” 

David glanced up from where he was sitting with Henry on the floor. They were all playing Uno on the coffee table – Henry and David on the carpet beside each other, Regina on the sofa, Emma’s chair close by. They were working as a team – Regina held the cards so Emma could see them and put them down, and Emma chose what card to play.

The sheriff’s usual easy smile froze on his face and he sighed. “Seriously?” 

“I know,” Mary Margaret leaned against the doorframe. She didn’t look impressed. “I told him you’d call him back.” 

“I’m missing something,” Regina said, leaning closer to Emma over the arm of the couch. “Who’s James?”

“He’s Dad’s brother.” Emma told her, green eyes full of sunlight. Her wheelchair was parked up beside the sofa, close enough for them to keep their Uno strategy. She was wearing a white tank and jeans, blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, and she looked happy and healthy and casual. “He’s a huge jackass but we all pretend to like each other.”

“Now who does that remind me of?” Regina joked, watching that dorky half-smile appear on Emma’s lips and marvelling over the fact she was _joking_ about her mother. “And hey!” She turned to stare at Emma, smacking her lightly on the arm. “Don’t say jackass in front of my son.” 

“Mom!” Henry grinned over at her, still holding his Uno cards protectively to his chest where nobody could see. “You said a bad word!”

“Hey,” Emma mimicked, staring at the brunette with an easy grin and soft eyes. “Don’t say jackass in front of your son.”

Regina fought back a laugh. “That is only because _Emma_ –” She turned to the blonde with a pointed stare and smacked her on the arm again, before looking back to her son. “Is a bad influence on me.” 

“Oh, sure,” Emma rolled her eyes theatrically, making Henry laugh. “Blame the girl in the wheelchair.” She raised a golden eyebrow at Regina. “You know, if you keep hitting me I’m gonna get you done for discrimination.” 

Regina leaned forward across the arm of the couch, biting back a grin. Her eyes found Emma’s – wide and grin and dancing. “You know what –”

“Well, I’ll tell him he can’t come.” David was saying to Mary Margaret, leaning back on his elbows on the carpet. “Regina and Henry are here.” 

“You know he won’t stop badgering until we have him,” Mary Margaret sighed. Regina and Emma fell quiet for a second, sensing the older woman’s annoyance. The mayor leaned her head back against the doorframe for a second. 

After a few moments, her eyes landed on Regina. And then all of a sudden, Mary Margaret’s face _lit_ up. She stood up straight again, glancing between the four of them gathered around the coffee table. “ _Or_...”

“What?” Emma asked, eyes trained on her mom. She had that look in her eyes like she’d just had an idea. Emma recognised it from years of last-minute school projects and homemade Halloween costumes. 

“Uh oh,” David joked. “I don’t like that look.” 

“What if we tell him he _can_ come because Regina and Henry are here,” Mary Margaret stated, the start of a smile creeping over her face. She took a step forward into the room. “Maybe we could get a few more people round, too. Make it like a... post-operation celebration! We could do a pot luck.” She turned to her husband. “He’s always better around other people.”

Emma stared over at her dad, trying to gauge his response. After a second, David nodded slowly. “It’s a nice day. We could set some chairs up in the garden, get some music playing...”

Mary Margaret, smiling widely now, turned to Emma. “Well, what do you think?” 

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Emma said, nodding. She turned to look at Regina, feeling a rush of warmth in her chest when she saw the brunette’s beautiful smile. “’Gina?”

Regina and Henry were looking at each other across the coffee table – he didn’t share much of his appearance with his mother, but they were pulling exactly the same expression and it was wrecking all kinds of havoc on Emma’s chest. 

“We don’t have any other plans...” Regina shrugged. 

And just like that, it became one of those days that just flowed, effortlessly – where everything fell into place. 

Mary Margaret called back James and his girlfriend, and then some of their other friends, nearby relatives. David got to work fixing up the garden – it was a beautiful day, especially as the afternoon drew on and on and the sun climbed higher into the cloudless sky. 

Regina tried to say she and Henry could go home for a few hours if they needed some down time before, maybe cook something for the pot luck, but Mary Margaret wasn’t having any of it. 

“If you really want to contribute, you can whip something up in _our_ kitchen,” The mayor told her firmly. “Anyway, I think we need Henry’s muscles to help David in the garden...” 

So the afternoon progressed, and Regina found herself standing once again in the Nolan’s kitchen. And while Henry goofed around outside with David, Emma joined her, chair swung around the kitchen table to talk while Regina cooked. 

It felt good, standing at the kitchen counter, chopping and rolling and measuring for her trademark lasagne while Emma told jokes. The radio was on too, and whenever a song came on they both knew they’d end up singing along. It probably sounded awful, but Regina didn’t care. She felt comfortable and light, like something good was about to happen. Every so often she’d get Emma to taste the mixture, asking if she needed more pepper or if it was too spicy. 

She could see Henry laughing about with David in the garden outside the window, chatting away as he helped set up a long folding table on the patio. Regina smiled to herself, easing the oven door closed after the baking dish and standing up to get a head start on the dishes. “They work well together, it seems.” She commented, raising an eyebrow over at Emma.

“Yeah,” Emma grinned, casting a glance out the window. They were high-fiving, the kid’s hair all ruffled up at the back. “Think I’ve got some competition for the kid’s favourite cop?”

“Please,” Regina arched her eyebrow again. “Henry loves you more than anyone.” She paused, staring down at the soapy water. “You’re as much his family as Robin is. You know that, right?” 

That stopped Emma in her tracks. The blonde stared a second longer at Henry, running around laughing outside the window, and then back up at Regina. There was a lump in her throat all of a sudden. “You really -” Emma stared at her. She swallowed hard. “You really think so?”

Regina turned around from the sink, wiping her wet hands on a dishcloth. She leaned against the side, dark eyes finding Emma’s across the kitchen table. “Absolutely. He loves you.” 

After a second, the brunette rolled her eyes, picking up a sponge again. “So I suppose my wicked plan to steal him away to a little town in the middle of nowhere and keep him all to myself failed...”

Emma laughed, watching Regina’s smile light up her face. She nodded. “It’s better for a kid to have too many people loving him than not enough.” 

It was Regina’s turn to stop short then, feeling her chest knot a little. She stared at Emma, thinking abut those twelve years before Mary Margaret and David adopted her, and thinking about Mother. Ignoring the tightness her throat, she cast another glance out at her son playing with Emma’s dad and nodded. “I... Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

A slow grin crept over Emma’s mouth. “Yeah. I can be eloquent and refined sometimes.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Regina warned, turning back to the sink. “I haven’t forgotten that godawful spy book you made me read you.”

“Uh!” Emma protested indignantly. “I did _not_ want to read that. I just wanted _you_ to read to me.”

“Oh, and _that’s_ classy,” Regina commented, wiping down the kitchen side. “Using Agent Shafter and his fragile masculinity for your own gain.” 

Emma felt a dorky grin come over her face. “Well in my defence, it worked, didn’t it?” 

Regina stopped short. She turned, tucked the sponge away and took a second to bite back a smile before she turned back around to face Emma. Her brown eyes levelled with green. She took a step forward, heels clicking on the tiled floor. And then, with a coy smile – “ _We’ll see_.” 

Emma just rolled her eyes. _We already have_. 

So the day drew on, and people started turning up. First it was people from around town, the ones who could drop by quickly on short notice – Mary Margaret and David’s ‘couples friends’ mostly; Ashley and Sean with their daughter; Phillip and Aurora; Belle and Gold.

But people just kept turning up.

The infamous James made an appearance, along with his girlfriend. Granny Lucas dropped round with leftovers from the day, Ruby and Dorothy in tow. August showed up too, Graham and some of the other guys from the station, Marco, Ingrid – so many friends and family pouring in to catch up, enjoy the sunshine and... Celebrate the fact that Emma was okay. It would have been touching, really, if it hadn’t felt so natural. 

By the time the last stragglers had turned up, the table Henry and David set up outside was practically sagging with food and drink. They’d hooked Emma’s speakers up on the patio too, so a steady stream of music played. People were gathered around the garden, or in chairs on the patio, sipping wine coolers and talking. It was just another day, but it felt like a special occasion. 

And Regina somehow ended up the party piece. First she was being dragged off by Mary Margaret to talk to her work friends, then over to discuss the school play with some other parents, then being thrust at Emma’s family to be introduced, all the while trying to keep one eye on Henry – running through the sprinklers with Ashley Boyd’s daughter and another boy.

Eventually, Emma caught her, motioning with her head for her to come over. “Regina!” 

Regina turned, squinting in the light. Emma’s wheelchair, gleaming in the sun, was parked up on the patio. She was talking with her dad and his brother. Regina’s stomach tightened and she steeled herself before coming over, mentally preparing to meet Emma’s uncle, the infamous jackass. 

“Hi,” She greeted brightly, coming over beside Emma. She glanced between David and James, a little thrown by the similarities. Seeing them standing next to each other, practically mirror images, was a little unnerving. Still, Regina tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and held out her hand for a shake. “It’s James, right?”

“Yeah, James,” James confirmed, going in to shake her hand. He was smiling, the lazy arrogant sort of smile that suggested he didn’t need to be here right now – and all of a sudden, he didn’t look so much like his easy-going and considerate brother anymore. He squinted at Regina in the sunlight, sizing her up. “So this is Emma’s famous girlfriend. At last.” He gave Emma a teasing look. “I’ve heard a lot.” 

“Oh, no -” Regina seized up, flood of heat rushing to her face. She blinked a few times in the sunlight, staring between Emma and her uncle. “No –” 

Emma glanced up at her, green eyes wide, mouth slightly open, pink flush colouring her cheeks. After a second of awkwardly floundering, the blonde turned back to James, trying to explain. “Um, she’s not –”

“We’re not together right now.” Regina cut in smoothly, having finally got some control over herself again. 

James was nodding casually, and Regina was fairly sure David was trying not to laugh - _the traitor_ \- ready to smooth the misunderstanding over, when Emma’s head snapped over to stare at her again. Her green eyes caught hers. “Well, sort of.”

“What?” Regina stared at her. 

“I just mean we’re not, like, _not_ together,” Emma tried. “We’re not like, apart.” 

“Okay but we’re not like... a couple...” Regina trailed off, heart pounding. Her eyes were fixed on Emma. “Are we?” 

“Did I touch a nerve there?” James asked, grinning.

“Big time,” David muttered. He flashed a big smile, one hand on James’ arm ready to manoeuvre him away. “So, that’s Regina! Now come on, why don’t we go and find Jack and...” He guided his brother away, turning back over his shoulder to shoot Emma and Regina a look that said, _you owe me for this_. 

Left alone on the patio together, Regina folded her arms over her chest and shot Emma her most incredulous look. “What the hell was _that_?” 

Emma winced, squinting up at her through sunlight blonde hair. “He thought we were a couple! I panicked, okay!”

“Oh sure,” Regina rolled her eyes. “I’ve been going around introducing myself to all your people as a _family friend_ and you go an undo all my hard work.” 

“Oh, so staying a _family friend_ is hard work, then?” Emma teased, cocking an eyebrow at her. 

Regina gave her shoulder a playful shove, ignoring her goading stare. She raised a dark eyebrow. “I am going to go and find my son and see if he wants some juice.” Regina stated airily. And with that, she turned and headed down the lawn. 

Emma watched her walk away with a smile on her lips. Her dark hair bounced against her shoulders as she walked, shining in the sun. She’d taken her jacket off at some point – she was wearing a belted black dress, surprisingly informal for Regina, and a pair of Emma’s old ankle boots – the heels she’d turned up in weren’t exactly practical for a garden party. She looked gorgeous. 

More so when, halfway down the garden path, Henry ran at her in a tight hug. Emma watched Regina catch him in her arms, holding him close for a second before letting him go, laughing about something she couldn’t hear. Emma couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face looking at them both. _You’re as much his family as Robin._

“Close your mouth, Swan.” Ruby’s voice jerked her from her trance, and Emma turned around to see the brunette approaching, hands in the pockets of her denim shorts. “You’ll catch flies.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You’re a fine one to talk.” She pressed the button to spin her chair around, wheeling herself over to where Ruby was taking up one of the plastic garden chairs. “Where is your _roommate_ , anyway? I need to tell her thanks for the card and flowers.” 

“I don’t know,” Ruby shrugged. She pulled down the pair of red plastic sunglasses that had been pushed back in her hair. “I think she’s playing with the kids down past your annex.”

“Who’s immature now?” Emma joked. 

So the day drew on, but even as the sun slowly started to go down, the atmosphere didn’t. As Emma carried on talking and laughing with friends and family, conversations shifting and flowing like the tide, the sky above them turned orange and pink and purple, until finally the first bright pinpricks of stars were coming out, and the solar-powered lanterns Mary Margaret had bought last year were lighting up down the garden path. 

It wasn’t cold, though – the early summer heat was stubborn, and the night breeze was pleasantly cool. After a while, someone had the idea to get David’s fire pit out of the shed and before long, everyone still there had gathered around the metal stand in their mishmash of plastic chairs, sun loungers, ancient camp chairs, watching the flames lick into the glassy spring night. 

A few people had left, mostly the couples with fussy kids to attend to, or people who had to go a little further afield to get home – Uncle James included – but those who remained had all gathered around the fire, a few with cans of cider still in hand. 

Of course, the lack of seating had resulted in a few happy accidents. Mary Margaret and David had to cram onto one chair. And Regina, to nobody’s surprise, ended up sitting in Emma’s lap, wheelchair standing between the mismatched seats around the fire. Henry, insisting he wasn’t tired at all, claimed the folding camp chair beside them. 

The circle of conversation and memories made it easy to slip into their own more private talk unnoticed by the others, their voices muffled by the other conversations. 

“Regina,” Emma murmured softly, her mouth close to the brunette’s ear. 

Regina turned her head slightly to look at Emma, dark eyes soft and filled with reflected firelight. A shared warmth was growing between them. Her dark hair shone too, hard edges and lines erased and softened by the firelight, dancing golden over her skin. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Emma asked softly, unable to tear her eyes away from Regina’s. Her heartbeat felt slow and heavy. “Because I was thinking about what James said earlier, and...” She trailed off, suddenly finding herself looking at Regina’s lips. Dusky pink lipstick today. She swallowed, ignoring the sudden rush of heat to her face, and made herself look back up to the brunette’s eyes. “I thought maybe we should just cut to the chase.”

“Oh?” Regina questioned, slow smile spreading over her lips, reaching her cheeks, her bright eyes. One perfect eyebrow slightly raised, teeth playing with her bottom lip. 

“Oh,” Emma nodded, matching her grin. It was infectious. Her chest was fizzing and bubbling, and she breathed in, leaning her head back a little to find Regina’s eyes and ask the question. “Regina Mills...” She tilted her head to the side. “Will you be my _official_ girlfriend again?” 

Regina stared at her, brown eyes bright and dancing. For a long time all she did was look at her, softly, tenderly, faces so close together. And then, with a slow smile curling over her lips, Regina nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Emma nudged her nose with hers. She felt like laughing. “Okay? I put my heart on the line for you and all I get is _okay_?”

Regina nodded, biting her lip and smiling and giving Emma those _eyes_ , and hell if Emma even remembered where they were. All the other people around them, all the other hushed conversations and the crackling flames spitting sparks into the night, and the operation she’d had the operation she was going to have and _everything_ that wasn’t Regina just seemed to melt away. 

“For the record,” Regina whispered, lips brushing Emma’s ear. “I don’t think I ever really stopped.” 

Emma was brought out of her trance by the sound of David coughing a few seats away. She glanced back around the circle, watching everyone talking quietly or looking at the fire. Beside them, Henry was chatting away brightly to Mary Margaret. The fire hissed and cracked. She could hear crickets chirping in the distance. 

“Hey, Henry,” Emma called, clearing her throat and twisting her head around to glance at him. He stopped talking and stared up at her, hazel eyes wide and bright. A slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You might wanna cover your eyes a second.” 

“Why?” Henry piped – but David’s hands were over his eyes before he could protest. 

Emma turned back to Regina, who was staring at her as if she was everything good in the world, brown eyes sparkling. This time, they moved together at the same time, leaning forward to capture each others lips in a heady kiss. 

Emma was flooded with warmth. Her eyes fell shut. She tried to savour every second of it, every burst of heat exploding in her chest like fireworks. She felt Regina’s mouth slide open against hers, and Regina’s arm come up to drape around her shoulder. Everything felt slow and heavy, like a dream. _Like a damn good one_. 

When they finally parted, it took Emma a moment before she could open her eyes. When she did, all she could see was Regina, snuggled on her lap, hair rumpled, dark eyes wide and soft as melting chocolate. The brunette’s warm fingers brushed against her neck.  
And then before she knew what was happening, people were clapping. First just David, and then Ruby, until one by one they were being applauded and Emma couldn’t help laughing, especially when Henry piped up, “Can I look yet?”

The moment dissipated, and people went back to their own conversations, but the acceptance and the love all around her lingered in Emma’s chest. She breathed in, smelling the earthy smoke in her own hair and on Regina’s clothes – the brunette was now wrapped in one of Emma’s old grey cardigans. 

Regina smiled at her, a small, smug smile. “Did that answer your question?” She whispered, leaning closer and laying a small, chaste kiss against Emma’s lips. “Hmm?” 

“You got me,” Emma replied. She stared at her a second, then leaned in for another kiss. This time, when she pulled back, Regina released a soft little sigh, and Emma’s heart just fucking _melted_. 

“Just you wait,” Emma promised, thinking about the future and the next operation, and everything they had yet to share. “I’ll be holding you properly by the end of the year.”


	38. Like Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this didn’t get posted sooner! Turns out the mini shows I had this week actually totally kicked my ass... But I’m back now with this chapter which is just pure fluff. 
> 
> Like, I think a bit of plot slipped in somewhere, but this is like 90% sap. 
> 
> I’m not going to lie to you guys, I’m getting a bit emotional about how close to the end we’re getting. I’ve been writing this for ten months. You are all incredible and I am continually grateful for all your support!

The day of the second operation rolled around soon enough, and somehow it didn’t seem as daunting or intense as the last. 

Whether it was the fact that she’d been through it before and knew what to expect, or whether it was the shift in her relationship with Regina making _everything_ warm and fuzzy, but Emma arrived at the hospital pre-prepared with snacks and slippers, and a strange calm in her stomach. 

They turned up early, pulling into the best parking spot, and when they walked in – David pushing her wheelchair, Mary Margaret beside him carrying the food bag, Regina the other side with the other supply bag – Emma almost burst out laughing from the image of them all rolling up like some kind of insane nineties rap squad. 

She got signed in and settled into the ward pretty quickly, so that by the time Whale came to check up on them they’d already been waiting a while. 

Since the last operation, the four of them had become a sort of well-provisioned hospital tag team. David was on coffee: he headed down to the café to pick them all up drinks while Mary Margaret set up the extra pillows and stuff in the hard chairs they’d be sleeping in, and Regina unpacked the food bag onto Emma’s little plastic bedside table. They all knew their jobs and stuck to them. 

All in all, it was a more subdued affair than the last one – Emma went into theatre late and came out early. She slept through most of the night, Regina curled into her, legs and fingers entwined and squashed into the single hospital cot. A sleepy morning and a dry hospital breakfast later, and she was discharged. 

The first few weeks after went by quickly, with no change. 

And then the physiotherapy started. 

At first, Emma went into every session filled with determination. She treated each dumb exercise like a battle, each assisted stretch a war. If there was even the slightest chance something would spark her new nerve pathways into gear, then she was going to fight like hell for it. After all, she’d made Regina a promise she intended to keep. 

For the first few weeks, whenever she got embarrassed or frustrated with the patronising nurses or demeaning movements, she’d tell herself over and over that it didn’t matter. _Think of Regina_ , she told herself. _Think of her face when you finally wrap her in your arms for the first time and squeeze her so tight. Think of that._

And sometimes it was good for her too – it sort of reminded Emma of working out pre-accident. Except now she was squeezing tennis balls, not pumping weights. But there were other times, times unnervingly similar to the therapy days just after the accident, when it just seemed so _pointless_. 

After nearly two months with no progress, the second one seemed to be winning. 

It was turning out to be a beautiful summer – reliably bright and sunny, the air comfortably warm but filled with that crisp sea breeze that reminded everyone they were still in Maine, no matter the season. And as she was every Saturday morning, Emma was stuck inside, gritting her teeth to keep from yelling at the physio nurse. 

_Come on, Swan_ , she snapped at herself. _You’ve got through nearly this whole session without an issue... Or a sign of progress_. They’d got through her stretches, assisted exercises and her breath stuff. She just needed to survive the last ten minutes, and then Regina would be here and she could forget about it. They were picking Henry up from his friend’s and going to the park for a picnic together. 

Emma sighed, staring out the window and willing it to be over sooner. She turned back to the nurse, forcing herself not to scowl. “Can we just finish there?” She paused, ignoring the blank look on the woman’s face. “I’ve got plans.”

“One more,” The nurse insisted firmly. Her arms were folded sternly over her chest. Emma wasn’t sure what her name was, but she was annoying as hell. “Just one more go on both hands and we’re done.” 

“There’s no point, I can’t do it,” Emma argued, trying to keep her voice calm and level. “I’ll try again tomorrow.” 

“You’ll try now,” The nurse told her. “ _And_ tomorrow. It might not seem like anything’s happening, but you never know. It all helps. Again.” 

Emma groaned theatrically. She guessed the sooner she bucked up and did the damn thing, the sooner it would be over. God, she felt like she was back at school, stuck in detention. She shot another irritated look at the nurse. _Strict teacher and all._

Ignoring the rush of heat to her face, Emma clenched her jaw, focusing al her energy on trying to squeeze her thumb against her index finger. The movement was awkward and clumsy, but it happened. The next finger wasn’t so great. And when she finally tried squeezing her hand into a fist, nothing happened at all. She ducked her head, cheeks flaming. She could feel the nurse looking at her. God, that was embarrassing. 

She waited a few seconds, pretending not to be all that bothered. Once she’d got herself back under control, Emma stared back up at the nurse. “There. I can’t do it. Can we finish now?” 

The nurse stared at her unhappily for a few moments, but there must have been some broken little piece of soul somewhere under those scrubs, because eventually her mouth twisted into a grimace of a smile and she nodded. “Alright. But tomorrow –”

“I know,” Emma snapped, more viciously than she’d meant to. She felt her face flush again as she was hit with a sudden pang of guilt. It wasn’t the nurse’s fault, after all. 

Soon enough, she heard the familiar jangle of keys in the annex front door and Regina’s heels clicking against the hallway floor. Emma breathed in, shaking her head to get her hair off her face and composing herself just as the door to her bedroom opened and Regina came in, short dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. 

The smile froze on her face as soon as her dark eyes landed on Emma, and suddenly the brunette’s features creased with worry. “Emma, what’s up?” Regina asked, setting her bag down on the side and coming over to her. “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and filled with concern. 

“Fine, Regina,” Emma brushed it off. Her voice sounded a little high and strained even in her own ears. She paused, glancing out the window. She could feel Regina’s big puppy eyes on her. _Damn it_. “It’s just – physio.” She sighed. 

“Yes?” Regina prompted her continue. Sure enough, when Emma turned to face her, she was staring at her raptly, brown eyes big and shiny. 

Emma swallowed. She really did not want to be having this conversation now – she just wanted to go out and enjoy the sun with her girlfriend and the kid. “It’s just frustrating, that’s all.” Emma said. She paused again. “It’s been like, six weeks and nothing’s happened. If anything it feels like I’m going backwards.” 

“Don’t say that,” Regina breathed, shaking her head. Her perfect dark eyebrows drew together slightly. One hand reached out and covered Emma’s on the armrest of her wheelchair, thumb absently rubbing soothing circles over her knuckles. “You know how long it could take.” 

Emma didn’t trust herself to say anything. 

Regina exhaled slowly, straightening the hem of her dress and settling down in the chair opposite Emma. She reached out to take Emma’s hand again, big dark eyes finding hers. “This is going to be a slow process. You knew what you were getting yourself into. There isn’t going to be a set result, or a set time...” The brunette tilted her head to the side. “But if you just set aside this tiny part of the day for this tiny, who knows what might happen?” She gave a faint smile. “The doctor actually said it’s a better sign if nothing happens straight away.”

“I know,” Emma allowed. She breathed in, put on a smile. “I’m just... Whatever. I’m just being an asshole.” 

“You’re not being an asshole,” Regina chastised, with a huffy little sigh. Her dark eyes found Emma’s. “You’re a human being, you’re entitled to feel this way. Just...” She gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t let it weigh you down.” 

Emma watched her sit there, dark hair shining in the sunlight from the window. How could this woman walk in and go straight into comforting girlfriend mode and make everything better, just like that? A small smile appeared on her lips. “Thank you.” 

“It’s what I’m here for,” Regina told her, matching her smile. _God, she’s beautiful_. Especially now, with a dark glowy tan on her olive skin, and a sparkle in her brown eyes. “Now come on. We’ve got ten minutes before we have to leave to pick up Henry, and I intend to make them count.” 

“I like your thinking, Mills.” Emma could help but grin then, jerking her head to call Regina forward. “Get in here.” 

Regina laughed, a light, beautiful sound that made all of Emma’s annoyance from earlier melt away. The brunette settled gently in Emma’s lap and took a second to settle down, modestly smoothing down the hem of her dress with her legs awkwardly hanging over the arm of the wheelchair. It was Emma’s turn to laugh at her – she couldn’t help it. 

“Yes?” Regina demanded, raising an eyebrow at her once she’d settled down. 

“Nothing,” Emma grinned, fighting off another fit of laughter. “You’re cute.”

“I am not _cute_ , Emma.” Regina told her firmly, tan arms winding around the blonde’s neck. Brown eyes narrowed. “And you’re not very nice.” 

“That was a compliment!” Emma protested, trying not to laugh. “ And you are _so_ cute. Look at you. Your little face –”

“Cute is not a compliment,” Regina argued, even as one of her hands started playing through the curly hair at the back of Emma’s neck. “Cute is infantile. _Babies_ are cute. _Kittens_ are cute. _I_ am –”

“You’re like, five foot three and you cry at old movies,” Emma finished for her. There was an obnoxious smirk on her lips, and her green eyes were sparkling, levelled challengingly with Regina’s. “You’re cute.” 

“I’ve made grown men cry on more than one occasion.” Regina deadpanned. “The human resources people in Portland used to call me the Evil Queen.” 

“Aww!” Emma grinned. “My little cutie pie was a queen...” 

Regina glared at her. “We’re breaking up.” 

“Babe...” Emma cocked her head, staring at her for a second. Slowly, a mischievous grin crawled over her face, dimpling her cheeks, and the next think Regina knew she was squirming and laughing as Emma buried her face in her neck, going right where she knew the brunette was ticklish. 

“No!” Regina protested, attempting to duck out of Emma’s warpath. But it was no use – the wheelchair was too small to offer any leeway, and she was already starting to laugh. “No, no! No! I’m not talking to you!” 

“Look out!” Emma shouted, between attacks. “It’s the Evil Queen!”

“Stop it!” Regina protested, feebly trying to smack Emma away. How the hell was she getting bested by a woman in a wheelchair? After another failed attempt to squirm out of the way, Regina changed her game plan – the brunette turned sharply, took Emma’s face in her hands and sealed her lips to hers in a firm kiss, all in one smooth motion. 

At first, she could still feel Emma smiling against her mouth, but after a second a wave of warmth washed through her as the blonde pressed against her harder. The bubbling, laughing energy between them melted away to something else, something warm and heady. Before she knew what was happening, Regina’s stomach was flipping and her mouth was opening under Emma’s. When they finally pulled apart she couldn’t help but release a little sigh, hands resting gently on Emma’s shoulders. 

“Now _that_ was evil,” Emma murmured, their faces close together. 

Regina smiled smugly. “I have my ways.” 

“Um, _yeah_.” Emma agreed, green eyes trailing over Regina’s face. “Thank you, by the way.” 

“What for?” Regina asked, hands sliding under the straps of Emma’s tank top to trace absent circles over the warm skin of her shoulders. 

“Just... Clearing my head.” Emma smiled and leaned in to capture Regina’s lips in a short, chaste kiss. “I don’t know how, but you make everything better.” 

Regina stared at her for a moment, brown eyes shining. After a second, a small smile crawled across her lips and she raised an eyebrow conspiratorially. “Must be my magic powers.”

“Must be,” Emma agreed. “Now come on. Let’s go get Henry and work the _fuck_ out of this picnic.” 

Later, when Regina was lying awake in bed that night, she couldn’t help thinking back to Emma’s face when she’d walked into the annex. The physio nurse was just leaving, and Emma was sitting in her chair red-faced and hard-eyed, with a familiar frustrated twist to her mouth that she hadn’t seen for so long. 

It had only lasted for a second – but for that second, she’d looked like the Emma she first met. The Emma that spent all day every day being angry at herself and everyone around her. Regina knew she wasn’t anywhere near that place again. They’d had a wonderful day after all, teasing and joking around with Henry. But still... Regina didn’t want her even close to that kind of pain again. 

No. She saw how frustrating, how embarrassing Emma found her new physiotherapy routine. She couldn’t change that – not really, not instantly at least. But she could do something, surely. She could do... _what I did today._ What she did all that time ago, when she’d had no other weapon in her arsenal but distraction. 

Yes, she decided, staring up at the ceiling. She was going to try and take Emma’s mind off the operation results – or lack of – as much as she could. 

Regina stayed up most of that night doing what she did best: planning and prepping, organising and researching. Soon enough, she’d found two new museum exhibitions Henry would be sure to love and want to drag Emma to, a LGBT-themed play on at the theatre just outside Bar Harbour, and got three different weather reports so she could choose the best days for the beach, for picnics, for Granny’s. 

She was about a week into this endeavour when she was found out. 

It was another day of sun, and she was pushing Emma down the seafront past Main Street, where several other people had the same idea – the coastline along Storybrooke was stony and briny and the water was never going to be warm enough to swim, but a good few families and couples and gaggles of teenagers had set up with blankets on the stones, or sat fishing in camping chairs by the shoreline. 

On the boardwalk, the air was a little crisper than in the rest of the town, tinged with the salty smell from the nearby canneries. A way further down the beach, the shadow of the docks stood black and stark against the blue sky, boats rocking gently in their lots. 

Regina was making absent conversation about whatever came into her head – something she hadn’t realised she was even _capable_ of until she met Emma – the weather, tonight’s dinner, Henry’s homework project they’d both been roped into, whether or not to take up Mary Margaret’s offer to go back to working with her. 

They’d just stopped for a second, Emma’s wheelchair pushed up by the end of the bench Regina sat on, and took a quiet moment to look out at where the sunlight shone on the water, when Emma finally said it.

“I can see what you’re doing,” Emma told her suddenly, turning to her with a smile and an eyebrow raised. 

“Oh?” Regina met her gaze, face an impassive mask as her defences were suddenly raised.

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “You’re trying to distract me from physio. All this stuff we’ve been doing – the museum, the theatre, working on Henry’s project. You’re trying to keep my mind off it. You forget, ‘Gina. I know all your moves.”

Regina breathed in slowly and sighed. “Okay, so that’s what I’m doing,” she confessed. She couldn’t help the disappointment in her stomach, or her lips tightening. She really thought the ruse would last a little longer. “So?”

“So thank you.” Emma said softly. She tilted her head, green eyes seeking Regina’s. 

Regina stared at her. “What?” 

“Thank you.” Emma repeated. A small smile appeared on her lips. “It’s working. I mean, when I’m doing it it’s annoying, and frustrating as hell but then you turn up, and it doesn’t matter what we’re doing or where we are. What matters is I’m with you, and that makes me feel...” 

“What?” Regina leaned forward, trying to catch Emma’s eyes. 

“Eh,” Emma shook her head, grinning sheepishly as she waved it off. Her blonde hair was dancing around her face in the breeze, hiding the guilty look in her eyes. “Forget it. I don’t even know what I was going to say.” 

“Yes you do,” Regina realised, brown eyes searching her face curiously. “What was it?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder down the boardwalk, as if making sure nobody was listening. With a pleading look, she turned back to Regina. “It’s sappy, okay?” 

Regina was smiling now, a big wide smile she could feel deep in her chest. “What is it? You feel...?”

“I feel like I’m home, okay?” Emma said. “I feel like I’m home.” She paused, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of waves lapping against the shore, kids laughing a little way off. After a second, Emma cleared her throat, looked out across the water with the fiery sun in her eyes, and explained herself. 

“When I was a kid – before my parents started fostering me – I remember I used to look at all the cheesy sitcoms the big kids watched, and I used to think it was all some kind of fantasy world. I heard all these songs and stories and having families and falling in love I guess I didn’t quite believe it, ‘cause I’d never had that myself.” Emma explained. 

Regina stared at her, utterly engrossed in her soft words. She’d never talked about the earlier part of her childhood before, and Regina had never pushed it. 

Emma took a second, tongue darting out to wet her lips before she carried on, still watching the sunlit ocean seethe against the horizon. “And then obviously I met Mary Margaret and David and that was great, even though it took a while to get used to. When they decided to adopt me it was one of the happiest days of my life, but it wasn’t like we were a normal family straight away, right? We had to learn to get used to living with each other, get a dynamic going. It took me years before I could easily call them _mom_ and _dad._

“So while we _are_ a family, that happened so slowly and naturally that I didn’t even realise until it had happened. There was never a big moment or a new feeling. We just adjusted and I never really had to think about it.” Emma stopped talking and drew in a deep breath. “But _you_...

“God, you. You’re like more than family. More than cheesy sitcom couples I watched growing up. There’s this feeling when I see you, like this knot in my chest just undoes and I can just relax and totally be me. Henry too. Especially when we’re all together, it’s like... Seeing you is what I used to imagine coming home felt like.” 

“Emma...” Regina breathed. 

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is that when I’m with you, I feel like... Like I finally get what all the fuss is about, you know?” Emma swallowed hard, and then turned back to Regina, green eyes wide and honest. “Like I just _get it_.” 

Regina didn’t realise she was crying until Emma’s face softened in concern and she leaned forward as if to wipe the tear away, before she realised she couldn’t yet. 

“Hey, no, ‘Gina, don’t cry,” Emma shook her head gently. “Now I feel bad.” 

“No,” Regina shook her head, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She quickly wiped her cheeks dry, straightening her hair and composing herself before her hand found Emma’s on the arm of the wheelchair. “It’s good.” 

“It’s good?” Emma raised an eyebrow, green eyes still worried. “You’re good?”

“Yes, Emma, I’m –” Regina cut herself off and took a moment. When did Emma become the eloquent one? She breathed in. “I just wasn’t expecting that, I suppose. What you said was so beautiful Emma, and I assure you I feel just the same, and hearing you say that is just a little overwhelming.” 

“Really?” Emma asked, slight furrow between her eyebrows. 

“Yes,” Regina nodded, shifting forward on the end of the bench and leaning closer. The sun was beginning to go down now, gold light fracturing off the sea. “Nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before. I didn’t know... I didn’t know I could have that effect.” 

“Regina,” It was Emma’s turn to be touched now – there was a lump in her throat, and she didn’t know how it got there.

All of a sudden, Regina laughed. “Look at us,” She said, when Emma gave her a confused look. “How did we even get into this state?”

A small smirk crept across Emma’s mouth. She tilted her head, catching Regina’s eye. “I think it might be your magic powers again.”

“Of course,” Regina shook her head, incredulous. “What else?” 

Emma laughed, and then breathed in the sharp briny air, casting another glance out over the sea. She turned back to Regina, a feeling like hope dancing in her chest. “It really has worked by the way. Physio.” 

Regina stared at her. 

“I don’t care how embarrassing it is. I don’t even care if it doesn’t work.” Emma realised. She looked back up at Regina. “’Cause you’re the most important thing and...” She smirked again, wanting to smack herself for being so gross twice in one day. “I love you good enough as it is.”


	39. Shining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s so late, and so fillery! But I’ve been so rammed with college and family stuff and moving house... Life just suddenly got so unbelievably busy! But I figured that you wouldn’t mind a wait this close to the end. 
> 
> I should have the final two chapters up next week... Argh! Is that even real? 
> 
> As always, big thank yous to everyone who’s been reading my little fic.
> 
> (Also, I'm currently having internet issues so this chapter may not be posted on Fanfiction.net until tomorrow!)

As the windy blue-skied summer drew on, the realisation began to dawn on Regina that she had been living in Storybrooke for almost a year. 

For almost a year she’d been learning to connect with her son again, learning to connect with _herself_ again, learning to smile at people in the street. It had been nearly a year of long grey beaches, park benches and Granny’s takeout. A year of Emma Swan. 

In less than two months, she would have known Emma for a _whole year_. Sure, they hadn’t been _together_ for the full year, but for the majority of it she’d been right there by her side. And honestly? It had been the best year of her life. 

She would have known Emma for almost a whole year... 

_And_ she still hadn’t introduced her to her father. 

That particular realisation hit Regina in the bath. It was a lazy summer Saturday: she indulged herself and started the day with a soak, while Henry watched early morning cartoons downstairs. 

She’d just settled into the tub when Henry Sr sent her a simple text asking how she was and whether or not she was going to watch the meteor shower with Henry later – just an ordinary check-in message, the kind he’d been sending her every morning at ten o’clock precisely, ever since he learned to text. 

Regina opened up the chat and had started to tap out a reply out of instinct – yes, she was fine, and no there hadn’t been any developments with Emma’s condition, and yes, they were all going stargazing tonight like half the town, and how was he doing and – _no_. 

Still holding the phone high out of the bubbles, Regina deleted her entire reply. 

She took a second, breathing in the warm honeysuckle-soap-scented air. After a second, a smile came over her lips and she had her response. _All’s well. If you’re free this afternoon, we could have a quick call on Skype? I could introduce you to someone._

Regina hit send before she could think better of it, sinking back down into the warm suds with a new flutter of excitement in her stomach. 

The rest of the morning passed in a contented, summer-holidays bubble – she had lunch with Henry. He helped her cook: she was teaching him a few basic recipes. She walked him to his friend’s house – it was too nice a day to drive. And from there she walked to the Nolans’, laptop tucked in her bag, anxious smile playing over her lips, warm breeze winding through her hair. 

By the time she’d got through Mary Margaret and David’s fussy greetings– she found them side by side on sun loungers when she went through the garden to the annex, enjoying the sunny weather – she was almost nervous. _Ridiculous_ , Regina thought dismissively, but then the memory of Cora and Emma staring each other down flashed into her head, and maybe it wasn’t so silly after all. 

_No_ , she told herself, shaking the thought off. Daddy was going to love Emma, she knew it. The flutter in her stomach was more excitement than nerves. It had to be. 

The annex door was open in the heat, and she made her way down the hallway with her heart pounding hard in anticipation. Barely a day had gone by the past month without Regina walking down that hallway, but still... She couldn’t help breaking into an easy smile as she pushed through to Emma’s room. 

“’Gina,” Emma greeted brightly, fresh-faced and smiling. She swung her chair around from the window, wheeling over to meet her. “Hey.”  
The curtains and window were open to let in the sun, and the radio was turned on, playing some sweet folky ballad. Emma looked comfortable and laidback with her easy smile and bare feet, hair loose and wild over the straps of her black tank.

Partly because of the rush of warmth the sight of her still gave Regina, and partly to assuage the squirming in her stomach, Regina made her way straight to the chair and leaned down, hands covering hands, to press a sweet, swift kiss against her lips. It was only supposed to last a second, but when she tried to draw back, Emma leaned forward and the next thing she knew she was in the blonde’s lap, hands buried in her hair, shivering as Emma tilted her head to deepen the kiss. 

When they finally pulled apart, Emma was smiling like she was about to laugh, and the look was infectious. 

“Hey,” Regina finally replied, teeth playing absently with her lower lip. 

“Now that’s what I call a welcome back,” Emma mused, green eyes dancing as they ran over her. In the sunlight, she was just _shining_. “We should open with that more often.”

Regina rolled her eyes teasingly. “You would say that.”

“Eh,” Emma grinned. She paused, smile lingering and turning softer on her lips. “So, are we just hanging ‘til you need to get Henry, or...?” Her green eyes darted up to Regina’s. “’Cause, you know, if we don’t have any plans...” She wiggled her eyebrows. “What’d you say, Sugar?”

“I say never call me that again and we’ll talk,” Regina fired back, getting lost in the moment for a second. 

She paused, biting back a smile. “I wanted to ask you about something, actually,” She eased herself up off the wheelchair, stripping off her jacket and hefting her handbag up onto the coffee table. Regina ignored Emma’s noise of protest and sat down – in the chair beside her this time. When she was settled, she breathed in, and her eyes flickered up to meet the other woman’s. 

“Okay,” Emma said. Her green eyes trailed over her, studying. “I’m getting nervous.” 

Regina finished settling herself down, taking a second to meticulously smooth her skirt over her knees before looking up at her girlfriend. One hand rested on her bag on the coffee table – she could feel the shape of her laptop through the material. 

Regina took a breath in and held Emma’s gaze. “I thought maybe you’d like to meet my father.” 

Clearly, Emma hadn’t been expecting that. 

The blonde’s eyebrows softened, her mouth parted slightly, green eyes blinked with surprise. “Oh,” Emma said. After a second, a hint of a smile ghosted over her lips. After another second, it became a surprised grin. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Regina nodded earnestly. “I mean, obviously, not in person yet but he wanted me to Skype him this afternoon anyway, and I just thought...”

“I could meet the father after I was just joking about having sex with you?” Emma raised an eyebrow.

Regina smiled, despite herself, but shot the blonde a look. “ _Emma_.” 

“No, yeah,” Emma nodded once, all serious again. And then more enthusiastically, “Yeah, that’s great.” 

Regina caught her gaze for another second, feeling a warm stirring in her chest. It was another sunny day, and golden light poured in through the open window, breeze rippling through the curtains. It was the kind of day, she thought, that made it seem like nothing could go wrong. _God_ , she thought, exasperated at herself, _Mary Margaret is certainly starting to rub off on me._

At the faint noise of Emma clearing her throat, Regina was pulled from her thoughts and looked back at her, scanning. Emma’s stance had shifted slightly, somehow – her eyes were full of something she couldn’t quite read, mouth open as if to say something. 

Regina frowned at her, confused. “What?”

“Nothing, I just –” Emma winced slightly. “Your dad. He’s not...” She breathed in, clearly struggling with how to say it. After a second she just gave in, sighting and grimacing again. “He’s not like your mom, is he?” 

“Oh, no,” Regina shook her head. “ _God no_. Is that... Is that what you were worried about?”

Emma nodded sheepishly. 

And god, did Regina feel something inside of her _melt _.__

__“No, Emma, my father...” She smiled reassuringly at the thought of him. “He’s a wonderful man. We’ve always been close, ever since I was a little girl. He and my mother could not be farther apart. In personality and in...” It was her time to hesitate now. “ _Parenting_.”_ _

__A relieved smile ghosted over Emma’s face, and Regina saw the muscles in her neck work as she swallowed. “Good.” She said, so firmly, so whole-heartedly that it made Regina’s chest ache with gratitude._ _

__“He’s going to love you, I know it.” Regina smiled softly. “And you him.”_ _

__“Well, we’ll see about that,” Emma joked. She paused, eyes finding Regina’s with a sheepish grin. “But as long as he loves _you_ , that makes him pretty sound in my books.” _ _

__Regina smiled, biting back a ridiculous happy laugh and standing up from her chair. She smoothed down her dress, crossed the floor to Emma and bent down to kiss her again, the same way she had the first time. Her hands covered Emma’s on the wheelchair armrests, her hair falling down and curtaining them off from the world._ _

__“I love you,” Regina murmured softly._ _

__Emma smiled a dreamy sort of smile, eyes never leaving her. “Love you, too.” She watched as Regina stood back and composed herself, practically glowing in the sun. Despite the nerves building in her chest, she made herself glance up at her. “So come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”_ _

__Ten minutes later, Regina had set her laptop up on the coffee table, brewed tea (for herself) and hot cocoa with cinnamon (for Emma). She set them down and settled herself beside Emma. She breathed in, smoothing down her hair and skirt before leaning forward and opening up the Skype tab on her laptop. Onscreen, a little green dot flashed beside her father’s name and picture. He was online._ _

__“You ready?” Regina asked, turning to face Emma. Her hand lingered on the touchpad._ _

__Emma breathed in, catching her eye and nodding. A nervous grin played over her lips. “Let’s do it.”_ _

__“Okay,” Regina said, leaning forward and tapping the video call button. While it rang, she adjusted the screen so both she and Emma were framed in the shot, and then settled back to thread one hand through Emma’s on the arm of the chair._ _

__After a few seconds of ringing, the answer noise clicked and her father’s face flashed onto the screen. He was sitting on his couch in the den in Boston, Regina recognised – he looked well, despite the new wrinkles at the sides of his brown eyes, and the fact he _clearly_ hadn’t been using that treatment Regina had bought him for his coarse grey curls. He looked happy. _ _

__His face lit up at the sight of her. “ _Mija! _Regina!”___ _

____“Daddy,” Regina smiled, heart bubbling warmth. She gave Emma’s hand a reassuring little squeeze out of instinct. “How are you?”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, fine, fine,” He chuckled. Regina saw his attention shift as he properly focused on his own computer screen, watched his brown eyes glance sideways. “This must be Emma.”_ _ _ _

____Emma ducked her head with a little half-smile. “Must be.”_ _ _ _

____“Emma Swan! At last,” A slow smile spread across the original Henry Mills’ face. “Well, it’s so good to finally see your face, I must say. Although I feel like I already know you, the amount Regina’s told me over the phone –”_ _ _ _

____“Daddy,” Regina interrupted, slight rush of heat flushing her cheeks. “Emma doesn’t need to hear this –”_ _ _ _

____Emma caught her eye, smirking. “Maybe Emma needs to hear this...”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, stop it, _mija_. What’s the harm in stoking the girl’s ego a little?” Henry scoffed, quickly turning his attention back to Emma. “You know, the day after you two got together she was talking my ear off, this and that all about how wonderful you are. I couldn’t quite believe just how –”_ _ _ _

____“Okay, Daddy, I think it’s really time to stop now.” Regina told him firmly, face growing warmer. Why did she think this was a good idea again?_ _ _ _

____Emma, meanwhile, was wearing the smuggest grin Regina had ever seen. Her whole face was lit up with it. “I like this guy,” She decided. She shot a way-too-happy look at her girlfriend. “Regina, why didn’t you introduce us sooner?”_ _ _ _

____“Because I knew something like this would happen,” Regina said, glaring between Emma’s smug face and her father chuckling onscreen. “Honestly, you’re both children.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, come on, Regina! We’re just having a bit of fun.” Henry laughed. “Not that I’m kidding, mind. Anyway, it really has been far too long without meeting you. You must come and visit soon! Both of you, and the boy.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Emma rushed to say. “I mean, I’ve met your wife already and I don’t think she’d be too keen on me coming to –”_ _ _ _

____“Don’t you worry about her.” Henry said firmly, eyes suddenly serious. “ _Either_ of you. You come to _my_ house and I promise she will not trouble you one minute.”_ _ _ _

____Out of the corner of her eye Regina could see Emma hesitate for a second, brow slightly furrowed._ _ _ _

____“My parents have had separate houses for years,” Regina whispered to Emma quickly. Of course, divorce was not an option for Cora Mills. Divorce was something scandalous to be passive-aggressively gossiped about at the country club. She winced. “Don’t go into it.”_ _ _ _

____“Noted.” Emma nodded._ _ _ _

____“Of course, that’s not important now. _Anyway_ , Emma.” Henry smiled. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? I want to know you better.”_ _ _ _

____“About _me_?” Emma joked, eyebrows raised. “You mean you’re not going to grill me about my intentions with your daughter?”_ _ _ _

____“Hmm.” Henry pretended to consider. “Maybe later. First though, you. Who are you? What do you do? Likes, dislikes, favourite colour! Anything!”_ _ _ _

____“Um,” Emma paused, unsure what she was supposed to say. “Well I’m a small town cop, so I don’t really do anything... And I like Regina fair enough.”_ _ _ _

____“Daddy, I don’t think Emma needs to tell you her life story right this moment,” Regina interjected. “We just wanted to say hi and see how you were.”_ _ _ _

____“Psshh! Me? I’m fine.” Henry said. “Going a little crazy over the new deadlines at work but I’ll manage. What are you two up to?”_ _ _ _

____“Not much,” Emma shrugged._ _ _ _

____“Well, we’re just waiting for Henry to finish up at his friend’s house and then we’re all going to watch the meteor shower tonight,” Regina elaborated. “Henry’s very excited about it.”_ _ _ _

____“I bet he is!” He chuckled. “I expect I’ll see him the next time you video call?”_ _ _ _

____“Definitely,” Regina confirmed._ _ _ _

____The conversation, she reflected, flowed quite smoothly between the three of them, and while they talked Regina couldn’t help but smile. She felt strangely at ease with them both in each others company, not at all nervous or controlling like she’d worried she’d feel. Instead, with Emma and her father getting on and swapping stories, joking and sharing, Regina felt like... Like there was love coming at her from all directions._ _ _ _

____Maybe it was sappy, and something Mary Margaret would stitch onto a pillow, but Regina couldn’t help it. _Look what this family have done to me_. But that was just it – this, Emma, her father, David and Mary Margaret in the garden, Henry a few streets down – this was _her_ family. And she couldn’t be happier with them. _ _ _ _

____After about an hour, Henry had to sign off and get to work, and Regina promised to call him soon with his younger namesake._ _ _ _

____“Well, that went well,” Emma reflected, smile on her face as Regina exited Skype and closed the laptop. “I think I successfully won him over.”_ _ _ _

____“You’ve had him won over since he first heard me say _she’s nice to me and she’s not a park ranger_.” Regina stated, smiling as she leaned over to slip the device back into her handbag. _ _ _ _

____“Okay, so I guess I was set up to be a winner,” Emma countered. She paused. “Sympathy vote and all that.”_ _ _ _

____Regina sat back in her chair, brown eyes wide as they met Emma’s. “That’s not what it is.”_ _ _ _

____“I know.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Now...” She jerked her head towards herself. “C ’mere and give me a little sugar.”_ _ _ _

____“I thought we had an agreement about the use of that word...” Regina grumbled, even as she eased herself over into Emma’s lap and slipped her arms around her._ _ _ _

____Emma chuckled, watching with amusement as Regina settled herself down in the chair with her. She was about to make a teasing comment about being cute again, but Regina cut her off before she could speak with a light kiss. Probably better for her own safety._ _ _ _

____As it had become the case for them, one kiss became two, two became three and three just... didn’t stop._ _ _ _

____Emma honestly couldn’t have said how much time had passed before Regina drew back properly, without lingering hands and lips and foreheads drawing them back in. She couldn’t help but frown, confused. Her mind had slowed right down by this point, thoughts moving sluggishly._ _ _ _

____“Where are you going?” Emma asked, leaning forward herself to nuzzle against the brunette’s neck._ _ _ _

____“Mmm,” Regina murmured. “While this is lovely, we really need to keep an eye on the time.” She eased herself a little more upright, glancing over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. “We have to pick up Henry in a minute.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, yeah, about that...” Emma gave an apologetic wince, suddenly snapping back awake. “The hospital booked me in for physio this afternoon so I can’t come over ‘til later. Sorry.”_ _ _ _

____“What?” Regina shook her head, tiny furrow appearing between her eyebrows. “On such short notice? Do you mind? I mean, I could call them up if you wanted –”_ _ _ _

____Emma suppressed a laugh. “Babe, it’s fine. But you’re cute when you get all worked up though.”_ _ _ _

____“Emma,” Regina gave her a look. “We’ve been over _cute_ before.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, yeah,” Emma rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you later though.”_ _ _ _

____“Okay.” Regina nodded. She was already gathering up her handbag and jacket. She looked over her shoulder at Emma, brown eyes wide and expectant. “Maybe get your father to drop you round at seven or eight? We’ll be set up in the garden around then.”_ _ _ _

____“Great,” Emma confirmed._ _ _ _

____“Emma?” Regina paused in the doorway, one hand on the handle, brown eyes filled with concern and trained on Emma. “You’re not upset about the physio, are you?”_ _ _ _

____“Nope,” Emma beamed. “Right now I just need to get it out the way so I can chill with you and the little space nerd all night.”_ _ _ _

____“Okay,” Regina hesitated a moment before matching her smile. “See you then.”_ _ _ _

____Emma waited until she heard the annex front door click shut behind her to release the sigh she’d been holding in all day._ _ _ _

_____Physio, fucking physio_. She’d being doing great today! She’d barely thought about it – all that kissing was a pretty good distraction. But still... _ _ _ _

____The truth was, Emma _was_ upset about it. _Fucking_ upset. _ _ _ _

____Physiotherapy was always an ordeal – embarrassing, infuriating, frustrating as hell. It was aggravating being forced to _attempt_ the same impossible and impossibly easy exercises over and over. A couple of years ago, she was beating her record number of pull ups. Now she struggled to squeeze a ball or rotate her wrist. _ _ _ _

____It was fine when she was all energised and hopped up on hope, but eventually she just had to accept that it hadn’t worked.  
Months had gone by. Nothing had happened. She could grip a little better now. Occaisionally flex her wrist. But what was that, really? Nothing. All those hours under the harsh hospital lights had been for nothing. They’d tested her and twisted her and cut her open for nothing. _ _ _ _

____Which was fine. _She_ was fine. Like everyone was so eager to remind her before it happened, she wasn’t any worse off than she was before. Except... Except she’d let herself hope. For just a second, she’d really believed... _ _ _ _

____Whatever. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t help the disappointment, the crushing weight of it. Of knowing that promise she’d made Regina would never come true. What mattered is that she didn’t let anyone else know just how much it was affecting her. It was dumb, and uncalled for, and she’d get over it soon enough. There was no point troubling her parents or Henry or Regina with it. Not when they were doing so well. All of them were happier and more _together _than she’d ever seen them.___ _ _ _

______Because even as Emma fell apart, her family only seemed to fall together._ _ _ _ _ _

______Meeting Regina’s dad was just the tip of the iceberg. All this recent talk of families and homecomings seemed to have done something to the brunette – put an extra spring in her step, so to say. Every time Emma saw her – pretty much daily now – she was smiling, brown eyes lit up like the sun. She was completely immersed in the world, in herself. Compared to the guarded, uptight ice queen Emma had first met so long ago, the difference was incredible._ _ _ _ _ _

______There was no way Emma was going to jeopardise that because she’d accidentally clung too hard to a pipe dream._ _ _ _ _ _

______And as for her parents, well. More in love with each other and the rest of the world than ever. The two of them were like a couple of teenagers – Emma kept busting them making out on the sofa. They were also taking their role as honorary grandparents very seriously. Between them they must have bought Henry hundreds of dollars worth of snack and gifts, and Henry, for his part, was loving spending time with them too._ _ _ _ _ _

______They were a family. A real life, tight-knit, cheesy sitcom _family_. Everything she’d ever wanted. _ _ _ _ _ _

_______That_ was what she needed to focus on._ _ _ _ _ _

______So she went along with all the trips and events Regina planned for them all, pretty sure she was still trying to distract her from physio like she used to do before they fell in love. The 'distractions’ were getting more inventive lately, she had to admit._ _ _ _ _ _

______Like tonight’s – there was something going on with stars or meteors or something, and Regina had asked her over to watch with her and Henry from their back yard. Henry was excited, apparently – Mary Margaret had bought him a book about space a few weeks ago. He was as enthusiastic about comets now as he was about dinosaurs. It was out there, sure, but it was still Regina making an effort and Emma appreciated that._ _ _ _ _ _

______The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Physio came and went. Thankfully, she had a few hours afterwards to get over it before the meteor thing. The last thing Regina needed when she was in such a good mood was Emma turning up all moody and self-loathing. Instead, she spent the free time with her parents in the backyard, watching them potter about and making jokes with her dad. It really did make her feel better, and it was nice that her parents had that affect again._ _ _ _ _ _

______By the time Emma arrived at the Mills’ it was already getting dark._ _ _ _ _ _

______Her dad dropped her off in the van – there was no point waiting up for her, she’d told him. She’d probably stay the night again. So she wheeled herself down the perfectly-manicured front garden to the door, and she was just about to message Regina to let her in when the door swung suddenly open._ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry was standing in the foyer, grinning wide, cheeks flushed red. “Emma, you’re here!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sure am, kid.” Emma conjured up the biggest smile she could find for him. “You wanna give me a hand and push me out back?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Really?” Henry’s eyes widened happily, and he grabbed for the handles of Emma’s chair. “My mom’s already out there setting up blankets and stuff.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Cool,” Emma said, as he pushed her into the foyer and carefully shut the door behind them. “You excited about seeing this meteor thing, then?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh yeah,” Henry confirmed, and she could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Meteors are the coolest. Did you know that there are actually millions of meteors that go through the atmosphere every day? We just can’t see them. And the some of them can travel at up to...” He paused, like he was trying to remember the statistic. “Twenty six miles a _second_ , I think. That’s really fast!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Wow,” Emma made herself sound amazed. “Twenty six? That’s way fast!_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know, right?” Henry enthused. “They’re so cool. The only thing cooler than a meteor is probably an asteroid.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He ran ahead of the wheelchair to push open the back door, and then raced back around, a blur of skinny limbs and messy hair. “Mom! Mom, Emma’s here!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______And then he was pushing Emma out into the back garden, where she was greeted with a smiling Regina, standing over a cluster of lawn furniture._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh, is she now?” The brunette turned to them, arching an eyebrow. She was smiling an easy smile. She was still wearing the same dark blue dress she’d been wearing earlier at Emma’s, but now she was wearing flat shoes and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, and she’d scrubbed off the day’s makeup. Her hair was slightly ruffled up at the back. Emma thought she looked incredible._ _ _ _ _ _

______Emma grinned. “What gave me away?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Regina smiled, hurrying over to Emma and leaning down to meet her lips in a short, chaste kiss, suitably PG for their underage audience. When she straightened up again, Emma had to forcibly stop herself laughing at the grossed-out screwed up face Henry was making._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey,” Emma gave him a look, mock-serious. “You count yourself lucky, young man. That could have been a lot worse.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Emma, don’t traumatise my son, please,” Regina put in absently._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Guys,” Henry huffed happily, dropping himself down into the upright sun lounger on the lawn. “You’re not funny.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?” Emma raised her eyebrows, and pushed the button to scoot herself forward, in line with the rest of the chairs in the garden. “I am _hilarious_ , kid. You just have no appreciation for fine comedy –”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Right,” Regina cleared her throat. “Why don’t you two settle _that_ while I go and make us all a cup of hot cocoa?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sounds good, babe,” Emma grinned. “Cinnamon?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You know it.” Regina winked at her before she headed indoors, blanket still held around her shoulders, trailing on the ground behind her like a queen’s cloak._ _ _ _ _ _

______Emma watched her walk away like some dorky love struck teenager, caught up in her own mind until she heard Henry clear his throat loudly beside her, just like his mom did. It made her smile. “Yeah?” Emma asked, glancing over at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So I heard you met my Grandpa.” Henry said, looking over at Emma and meeting her gaze. His eyes were bright and full of almost grown-up complexity._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yeah,” Emma couldn’t help but grin at the mature tone of his childish high voice. She stared at him across the grass, his face pale and dim in the moonlight. “So?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“So that means you’re in.” Henry said, soft and matter-of-fact. His eyes never left hers. “You’re family. For better or for worse, in sickness and health. There’s no getting out of it now.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Emma nearly laughed again at that. “Believe me, kid,” She said. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______When Regina came back out with the plastic cups and a fancy thermos, she smiled to herself at the sigh of Emma and Henry lounging beside each other, laughing and talking under the light of the stars._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Alright,” She called, after a moment of watching, hurrying down the patio to the lawn to take her place between the both of them. “Who ordered hot cocoa?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______So Regina poured the drinks and moved her sun lounger right up against the wheelchair so she could snuggle closer to Emma and share a cup, and as the evening drew on, the three of them sunk into each other, sunk into the night and the moment and the stillness of it, so that by the time the spectacle actually started they’d almost forgotten that was what they were out there for._ _ _ _ _ _

______Gently, slowly, the last orange splatters of sunlight spilled beneath the horizon, and the lilac sky turned purple and blue, until the only light in the Mills’ little square of garden were the solar-powered lamps pushed in amongst the flowerbeds. Overhead, the stars appeared one by one by one, pinpricks of white glowing against the dark._ _ _ _ _ _

______After a while the conversation slowed down and eventually came to a stop. Regina was pressed against the edge of the sun lounger to rest her head against Emma’s shoulder and hold her hand, the two of them sharing a blanket as the cool night breeze wound around them and toyed with her hair. Her breath came slow and easy, and for once she found her mind contentedly empty, instead of worrying and overthinking._ _ _ _ _ _

______While they waited in soft silence for something to happen, Henry wordlessly stood up off his camping chair and over to Regina’s – the brunette lifted the corner of her blanket, inviting him in. However excited he was about the sky, he was still a little boy up past his bedtime, and he didn’t need to be asked twice to climb into the big sun lounger with his mother, settling in her arms, head against her chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______Regina sighed slowly, snuggled against Emma with Henry snuggled against her. Her two favourite people in the whole world, either side of her. She smiled to herself, marvelling, as the silence turned heavier and softer._ _ _ _ _ _

______Just when Regina was sure Henry was falling asleep, he sat up suddenly in her arms, pointing wildly at the night sky with one hand and tapping Emma’s arm vigorously with the other._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Look!” Henry cried, mouth hanging open, hazel eyes as bright as the stars overhead. “Look! Mom, Emma, look! It’s starting!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Regina reached out to take Emma’s hand again, squeezing her cold fingers tight and staring up at the sky, where, sure enough, the first falling trails of light were starting to show._ _ _ _ _ _

______She hadn’t expected much, if she was being honest. The view from the backyard wasn’t going to be spectacular, and what spectacle there was would only last a second. And yet – Regina leaned forward, breath catching in her throat as the first dazzling show of light soared through the darkness._ _ _ _ _ _

______It was beautiful, and strangely captivating. Another streak of white slashed across the sky, and another, and another, dropping one by one and making her heart beat faster._ _ _ _ _ _

______And as she stared up at the sky, a strange memory came into her head. Tucking Henry into bed, one of their first nights in Storybrooke. He’d made her think of love in relation to starlight that night: shining longer than it burned with Robin, endless and incomparable as the sun with Henry. _With Emma_. _ _ _ _ _ _

______And now here she was, almost a whole year later, surrounded by both._ _ _ _ _ _

______Now she’d learned the difference. Huddled together, wrapped in blankets, breathless, Regina realised the real wrench in the works of that analogy. Starlight was cold. Beautiful and otherworldly, but cold. Distant. Whereas love, and family... Regina breathed in, feeling tears burn behind her eyes. That was _all warmth_. _ _ _ _ _ _

______Emma glanced over, watching with an aching heart Regina’s face washed in moonlight. She took a second to study the brunette – clearly experiencing something bigger than she was. Her mouth was open slightly, wide eyes shining up at the sky, filled with emotion._ _ _ _ _ _

______Regina looked beautiful and free, Henry content and happy in her arms, and the sight of them cuddled up together did make Emma’s heart melt like chocolate. The meteors were stunning, trailing blazing banners of white-gold light over Storybrooke. She was happy. She was._ _ _ _ _ _

______But _still_... _ _ _ _ _ _

______There was the smallest niggling feeling deep down in her chest, and Emma couldn’t help but think the whole night might have been a lot nicer if only she could lean over and ruffle Henry’s hair, or pull Regina into her arms._ _ _ _ _ _


	40. Wishes Granted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I've said this once and I'll say it again now, this is not at all medically accurate. That's not what I'm trying to do here.
> 
> And secondly... I'm double updating today since the next chapter turned into more of an epilogue, so here we are. 
> 
> I'll save the mushy stuff for next chapter, so for now I'll leave it at another thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy

"I don't want to do it."

"Please? Just one more try?"

"There's no point."

"Yes there is."

"No there's not."

" _Emma._ " Regina sighed exasperatedly and narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend – Emma was sitting in her wheelchair across the bedroom, holding a tennis ball loosely in one hand, and glaring at it like it was everything bad in the world.

They were in Emma's room in her annex, where they'd first met - _which_ could have been today, the sheer droning endless time that had _dragged_ by while they sat opposite one another, arguing this same thing.

Regina had come over early while Henry was at the park with a friend, planning to help Emma through the simpler exercises the therapist left for her to do at home, then maybe make a nice lunch before going out. She'd had it all planned out neatly in her head. They'd go along the seafront, meet up with Henry after and then all go back to hers for dinner.

So far they hadn't quite reached _lunch_.

"Emma, come on. You _have_ to." Regina repeated, exasperated. She tried to restrain a sigh, pacing sharply around the space in front of Emma's bed. He heeled boots clicked loudly on the floor. "The doctor said, without the exercises the movement won't come back."

"It won't anyway," Emma remarked, sharp hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. She rolled her eyes like a huffy teenager. "I just do the same useless crap every time, same as yesterday and the day before that –"

"Well then it's not hard, is it?" Regina smiled thinly. Emma glowered back at her, and for a second, Regina saw exactly what she must have looked like as a moody toddler.

Clearly, the tough-love approach was not working.

Unfortunately for Regina, she wasn't exactly an expert in any other types. _Except..._

Regina stood up from her chair and made her way over to Emma's, where she leaned down, hands braced on the arms of the chair and brushed a slow, soft kiss over her lips. For a second, she felt Emma relax and soften against her. Then she pulled away, spine straightening sharply as she stepped back.

"Hey –" Emma started, annoyed, staring after her.

"Again." Regina nodded at the tennis ball.

"Why should I?" Emma whined.

Regina folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Because you're not getting any more of _those_ until you do."

"This is so not fair." Emma scrunched her nose, turning back to glare at the tennis ball again.

Huffily, she gave it a feeble squeeze. Her fingers closed tighter around it, as they did sometimes, but as _always_ , nothing much else happened. Feeling Regina's eyes fixed on her, she ignored the surge of annoyance in her stomach and squeezed harder. Or tried to, at least. The result was the same.

"There," Emma said, opening her fingers as best as she could. Thankfully, it didn't take much on her part for the tennis ball to fall from her hand, bouncing a few times on the hardwood floor before rolling away.

Green eyes darted up to Regina's. "I did it again. Happy now?"

Emma almost winced at the hard edge to her own voice. She hadn't meant to snap at her – she never did, but it just kept happening more and more. There was a tight, heavy feeling in her chest, like she was caught up in a spiders web, and she couldn't get out.

"No," Regina said. She sighed. When she'd become a damn physiotherapist, she didn't know. "Look, Emma," Regina flipped her hair behind her ear and sat down in the chair beside her, fingers meticulously smoothing down her skirt over her knees. "I know this is hard for you –"

"'Gina," Emma said, eyebrow raised. "Please don't try and give me a hope speech. I get enough of that from my mom."

"I know," Regina admitted. She bit her lip. "I just want you to know that I'm not purposefully being hard on you or pushing you or anything like that – I just want to help."

"I know." Emma nodded. "You don't need to defend yourself to me."

"I'm not."

"O _kay_ ," Emma said, voice sounding weirdly strained in her own ears. God, what was up with her today? This was supposed to be a cute little morning alone with her girlfriend, and here she was whining and bitching because Regina was trying to do a nice thing. And here she was... Doing what, exactly?

Emma found herself asking herself that question more and more lately.

She sighed, taking a second before turning and looking over at her girlfriend.

Regina was sitting tightly beside her, drumming her fingers absently on her knee. She was focused intently on her shoes, brown eyes soft and full of conflict in the bright summery light that poured in from the open window. A slight furrow appeared between her eyebrows, and all of a sudden, Emma was feeling like the worst person in the whole world. Luckily, she had practise with that one.

Before she could open her mouth and say something, Regina turned to her with a thin, sheepish smile. "Why don't we take a break? I'll make some lunch and we can go out..."

Emma nodded. There was a lump in her throat, and she didn't know why. Except she did. "Okay," Emma said. "That's perfect."

Regina stood up sharply. "If you just finish your exercises first."

And that was it.

" _Regina_ ," Emma muttered.

"Do you not understand?" Regina huffed. She was trying to stay nice, but honestly? Day after day of the same refusal to hope was grating to say the least. "The doctors said it could take months. Years. Just because nothing's happened overnight doesn't mean it never will, but only if you keep going."

"You're the one that doesn't get it," Emma said, voice still trying to be light and matter-of-fact. Why did she say that? _Damn it, Emma. Get a grip. Stop now. Stop now before you do something you'll regret. Stop now before it's too late._

Regina raised a challenging eyebrow. "Oh, don't I?"

"No, Regina, you don't understand." Emma snapped. She could feel tears starting to burn behind her eyes, and her cheeks flushed with heat. "Because you can do what you want when you want, you can drive, you can dance, you can fucking _walk_."

"Emma." Regina shook her head. To anyone else she was still perfectly composed, even annoyed, but Emma was all too practised and looking past that mask. She could see the hurt flash in her brown eyes as she tried to reason with her. "I know you're frustrated right now but –"

" _Frustrated?_ " Emma swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. Already, guilt was crawling up her spine. _God, I'm an ass_. But she was angry, and she didn't want to cry right now and she couldn't stop. "Did you know I used to be able to do fifty push ups straight? Did you know that?"

Regina was staring at her, unsure, unreadable. Her brown eyes were wide and fixed on hers. "Emma..."  
But she couldn't stop now. The words had been stuck inside her so long. They'd built and built and built up and now they were tumbling down. An avalanche. Force of nature.

Emma plunged on, never looking away from her. "Did you know that dusty heap of junk in my parents garage used to be my car? It was a yellow VW Bug, and driving around at night used to be one of my favourite things in the world? I used to cook sometimes too. Yeah, I know. But I made a mean bolognaise sauce. Kicked ass on the Xbox, too. Used to beat Graham and the rest of the guys at five-aside soccer at the Storybrooke fair, every year."

Emma breathed in slow, lump in her throat suddenly growing as she took in Regina's tight jaw, soft eyes, defensive folded arms. _God, Swan. Get a grip_. She willed herself not to cry as she carried on. "And did you know _all of that_ went away when I met you?"

Regina was biting her lip now, brown eyes shining.

"It used to _crush_ me that I couldn't do any of that stuff anymore. But when I fell in love with you, I didn't even care. Because you could help me hold you and touch you and dance with you, you could take me to Christmas markets and lakeside cabins and make me feel strong. And I love you, Regina, with all my heart, and those memories are the _most_ special to me. But now...

"Now I'm _tired_ , Regina." Emma sighed, and tried to ignore the way her voice shook. "Now I just want to go to work and come home to you and Henry and I want to be able to fucking touch your face when I want."

Her words hung in the air between them like dust motes, so even with neither woman speaking, it didn't really feel like silence.  
Emma ducked her head away sheepishly.

For a long time, all was still.

And then Regina took a step forward, arms wrapped tightly over her chest. Whatever was going on in her head, she was making a great effort not to show it. Her dark eyes shone, never leaving Emma's, her mouth was pressed into a tight line. After a second, she broke the silence, voice just slightly too soft to be _controlled_. "How long have you felt this way?"

Suddenly inexplicably guilty, Emma tried to avoid her eye. "A while." She confessed, a whisper. She swallowed hard. "Maybe ever since the operation. Ever since it didn't work."

Regina was too gone to even tell her it was still too soon to say.

"That long?" Regina echoed, and when Emma finally looked up, the brunette's lip was trembling. She was breathing heavily, like she was trying not to cry – her chest was rising and falling with the strain. Emma knew the feeling too well.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" Emma snapped, suddenly angry. Not angry at Regina – angry at _herself_ , angry she felt bad, angry she'd spoken at all, angry she'd waited so long. "What do you expect me to do? I don't know! I don't know _anything_. So you tell me, what do I do?"

"You _talk_ to me," Regina cried, hands flying to emphasise her point. After a second she sighed, turning to find Emma's eyes with tears in her own. And then she was on her knees in front of the wheelchair, eyes never leaving Emma's. With a shaky, weak breath, she gripped her hand. "You talk to me, Emma."

"How?" Emma's voice was low and harsh. She was trying to keep it all in. It was bad enough Regina was upset. They didn't need to both break down because of her. "How am I supposed to say all that to you when you're finally happy? And Henry, how am I supposed to talk with Henry so _thrilled_ we–"

"I don't know," Regina shrugged. Despite the tears in her eyes, there was still something defensive flashing in there. "I don't know. I never talked to anyone in my life before you, not properly. You just _do_. You just find a way and be honest because –"

"I didn't want to upset you –" Emma protested. The first hints of panic were jumping in her chest. _Don't go. Don't go_. Just for once, she wanted to have not ruined something. Just once.

"Upset me?" Regina shook her head, incredulous. "Emma, I don't care if you _upset_ me! I care about knowing what you're going through so I can help you. That's all I want. I want us to be able to talk about our problems so we can support each other and find ways to get through them, _together_. I love you, and I'm always going to be there for you to talk to, you have to understand that."

Regina drew a deep, unsteady breath in. She spoke slowly and carefully, big brown eyes teary and fixed on Emma's. "You can tell me _anything_. I'm not going anywhere."

It was too much.

"Okay," Emma managed, with a pathetic sniffling noise. At least she wasn't crying. That could wait. "But maybe you should go home now and I'll come round later." She breathed in and found Regina's eyes with a half-hearted smile. "I think I need some time alone."

Regina's dark eyebrows drew together in the slightest hint of a frown.

"What?" Emma asked, trying her best not to sound defensive.

"I'll go if that's what you want," Regina said. There were tears shining in her eyes, but they were hard, somehow, and her voice was a little stronger. "But I know you're waiting until I leave to break down. I know you're trying not to cry in front of me, and I know you've got more to say."

She stood up abruptly, delicately brushing away tears from under her eyes. "So I don't even know if you listened to _any_ of what I just said." Her voice was shaking again. "But I'll wait. Because that's what I signed up for, I suppose. Waiting."

For a second, Regina's dark eyes lingered on hers, half pleading, half daring her to speak. She looked away suddenly, gathering up her bag from the coffee table.

It was that little motion that thrust Emma into action.

"Wait, Regina..." The words were rushing out of her mouth before she could even think. Her heart was pounding, head fuzzy with panic and suddenly crystal clear at the same time. "Don't go. I'm fucked up, I know. And I know you're pretty fucked up too, and I guess I don't tell you certain things because I think they'll hurt you and believe me, Regina, the last thing I want is to be another name on the list of people that have done you wrong."

She paused for breath. "I guess I think I'm not worth your pain, or my pain isn't worth you, or something like that and I know that's messed up but... I'm not good with words but I'll get better. I am getting better. At feelings and sharing things and –"

Regina turned back to her, keys in one hand, eyes dark and heavy. "Emma, I'm not mad at you. I just think we both need some time alone right now." She moved to turn around.

"No, wait –" Emma grabbed Regina's wrist. "Stay. Please. I didn't mean –"

"Emma," Regina whispered.

"Seriously, Regina, I'm just emotional right now, it's not about –"

" _Emma_ ," Regina said again, and this time her voice broke. She was staring at something, her dark eyes wide and soft and shining, mouth open, breath quivering. This time, the tears in her eyes didn't seem bad. They seemed... Awed.

Emma frowned for a second, confused.

And then she realised.

"Oh my god," The whisper fell from her lips like a prayer. Her heart was pounding. Emma blinked, frowning as she struggled to process what she was seeing. Her hand, grasping Regina's wrist. Her arm, _reaching_. Was she breathing? " _Oh my god_."  
She stared up at Regina. The next time she blinked, she could feel a tear race down her cheek.

"Emma," Regina breathed.

For a long time, both of them were almost completely silent. As it does when a miracle happens, a moment hovered and settled and remained for much more than a moment. And sound and time and movement dropped from the world and everything was perfectly still for much, much more than a moment.

When eventually time awoke again, Regina released a shaky, incredulous little sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. "Emma," She said again, and this time there were tears in her eyes and in her voice.

Emma ran her hand down Regina's wrist. The movement was shaky, clumsy, out of practise. They both watched raptly as she slid her hand down further, into Regina's open palm. Her fingers threaded through hers and squeezed tight.

That one simple movement felt better than anything else ever had, ever could. Her heart was pounding, her breath caught in her throat. She gripped Regina's hand like a life raft, like a harness, like some rare and precious jewel. Like she was afraid something bad might happen if she let go. It might.

Softly, Emma held her hand firmer and pulled her closer. It was a small, unsteady move, but Regina knew exactly what she meant. They crashed together like magnets, Regina climbing down into her lap, knees pressed tight against Emma's thighs in the cramped fit of the wheelchair.

The brunette's hands, nearly as shaky as her own, fluttered to Emma's face as they came together in a messy kiss. It was clumsy and unrefined, all soft lips and hard teeth and noses bumping and brushing, and it tasted like tears. Whose they were was anybody's guess.

When they pulled away Regina keened, releasing a soft incredulous noise somewhere short of a whimper. Emma still wasn't breathing. If she breathed she might blow it all away.

"Emma," Regina whispered, voice barely audible. Her teary eyes searched the other woman's. "Look,"

Emma stared at her, heart aching, mind buzzing. All around them the pale evening light was shifting and dancing through the open window. Regina pressed closer, hands dropping down to rest on Emma's shoulders.

Emma couldn't help herself. When a fresh surge of tears filled her eyes, she leaned forward to capture Regina's lips with her own again, this time kissing her with a desperation, a _need_ she couldn't quite explain. Her stomach was flipping over and over and over.

This time when they pulled apart, she stayed close to Regina. Their lips almost touched, noses and foreheads coming together. Emma closed her eyes, _squeezed_ them shut. And with a heaviness in her chest that felt like coming home, she gently unthreaded her hands from Regina's. Trembling like crazy, she reached up, up, _up_. 

One hand came to rest gently on the side of Regina's cheek, the other sliding unsteadily around the soft warm skin of her neck. Beneath her fingers, Emma could feel her pulse jumping fast. With all of her willpower, Emma softly cupped Regina's face in her palm, one thumb skittering across the smooth skin of her cheek.

After a second, Regina's eyes fluttered open. Lips parted, breath somewhere in her chest, she held Emma's gaze and revelled in the feeling of being touched like this.

"Regina," Emma managed, voice hoarse and breaking.

That did it – Regina breathed in sharply as the tears spilled down her cheeks. She closed her eyes tight and leaned into Emma's touch as the blonde finally, _finally_ held her face in her hand.

Emma couldn't take her eyes off her. Regina's eyes opened, found hers again as she trailed her fingertips over her cheek, up to weakly brush back a dark strand of hair. She mapped out Regina's face with short, jerky movements, trying to commit it all to memory. Her thumb brushed over her full lower lip, skirted up to swipe at the damp tracks left by her tears.

"I love you, Emma." Regina whispered. " _So much_."

"So, so much," Emma agreed, nodding, just now realising she was crying too. She didn't care.

They came together for another kiss, this one warm and soft, and with all the energy she had left, the hand Emma and left against Regina's neck burrowed deeper into thick dark hair, just the way she'd always wanted.

Just the way she'd dreamed it.


	41. The Last Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here’s where I get sappy. 
> 
> This silly little fanfiction which has entertained, annoyed and hopefully touched you has taken me through eleven months and three houses. Writing it has made me laugh, cry, rage at myself. I’ve enjoyed myself – mostly. 
> 
> But what has really touched me the most about this is reading all the messages from people who have read, enjoyed, related to or connected to this story. 
> 
> Knowing that this has affected people has really affected me, and I’m rambling now but I just really want to thank every single person who has read (and stuck with!) this story, whether you’ve commented or not, whether I’ve managed to reply to you or not. I am incredibly grateful to every one of you. 
> 
> So there’s nothing left to say now, except...

**Two Years Later**

“Emma!” Regina cried out in surprise as she felt her girlfriend’s warm lips press firmly against the side of her neck, felt her hands tighten either side of her waist. She ducked her head, trying to squirm away. 

“What?” Emma’s voice was still heavy and sleepy from the long morning in bed, but she could hear the hint of a laugh in her teasing tone. She smiled and gently brushed Regina’s dark hair – now just brushing past her shoulders – aside and peppering more kisses up and down her throat. “What, baby, what’s up?

“Emma,” Regina protested, fighting to hold back a laugh. “Emma, stop it.”

Emma grinned against the warm skin of her girlfriend’s neck, arms locking tight around the brunette’s waist to keep her in place. “You like it,” 

Regina made an unimpressed noise. “I might, but Henry has enough on his mind without finishing breakfast with a live –”

“What?” Emma teased. 

“Oh, stop it.” Regina muttered again. 

Emma sighed against her neck, giving in and pushing them over to the kitchen sink where Regina hopped up off the wheelchair, smoothed down her nightdress and leaned over to run the hot tap. 

“Guys, just because I can’t hear it out there, doesn’t mean I wan to hear it,” Henry muttered, walking through the doorway into the kitchen with a pointed look at Emma. 

Regina smirked into the sink, reaching for the dish soap. “Well you can blame Romeo over there for that.”

Emma caught Henry’s eye as he trudged over to sit himself back down at the kitchen table and grab his juice glass, half empty from breakfast. He was still in his pyjamas, brown hair ruffled up at the back, and there was a smear of jam on his t-shirt. He yawned, rubbing at his bleary eyes. “You guys might have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“No,” Regina reasoned, turning off the tap. “The jar is for when you _see_ stuff or when one of us swears to much – _Emma_. Hearing stuff doesn’t count. And we were just kissing. And anyway – We told your parents we’d be over by twelve.” Regina reminded them. “We have to start getting ready now or we never will.” 

“And what would be so bad about that?” Emma asked, catching Henry snigger out of the corner of her eye and biting back a smile. 

“You’re both impossible.” Regina huffed. She crossed the kitchen back to the table, leaning over and stacking up their empty breakfast plates. The remnants of Sunday pancakes were scattered all across the polished wood. 

It had been a pretty typical Sunday morning in their now shared house – Regina had woken up first and tried to get up and be productive. Emma had woken up and refused to let her leave the bed, where she’d been comfortably snuggled into the blonde’s chest. At around ten, Henry had surfaced and climbed in with them to chat about everything and nothing. By eleven Regina finally managed to get them both out of bed, and of course, Sunday pancakes had been in order. 

Maybe not the best idea, considering they were headed to David and Mary Margaret’s for lunch soon, but it was a tradition nonetheless. And the quirky, hand-made traditions the three of them had cobbled together for themselves were taken _very_ seriously. 

“I can’t believe you got me to stay in my pyjamas half the morning,” Regina muttered, but Emma saw she was grinning to herself as she carried her plate over to the sink. 

“I can’t believe you wear that to bed,” Emma smirked, eyeing the short nightdress she loved so much. Regina spun around and smacked her arm lightly. 

“Guys,” Henry warned, looking up from his phone with wide, serious eyes. “You’re being gross again.”

“Right, sorry.” Regina set the last dish down on the kitchen side. “Well I’m going to go take a shower. Both of you better have these plates washed up by the time I come downstairs.”

“Yes ma’am.” Emma joked, casting a sneaky glance over at Henry – slumped on the side of the sofa, texting. Not yet thirteen, and he was already coming down with a case of gawky growth spurts and dorky crushes. He caught her eye, and though he didn’t say anything, she knew they were thinking the same thing. 

“Okay,” Regina said, unaware of the wordless exchange. She smiled, dropped a quick kiss on Emma’s lips and then hurried out the room and upstairs. 

Emma waited until she heard the distant rush of the shower turning on before she spoke. 

“Hey, kid,” Emma called, glancing either side of the room to make sure the coast was clear. “You got a second?” She paused. “It’s about Operation Cobra.”

“Sure,” Henry nodded and lowered his voice – already rough and uneven with the onset of puberty. He pulled out his earbuds and set his phone aside. “What is it? Did you find a ring?” 

Emma breathed in and nodded. “I think it’s the one, kid.” Her stomach was fluttering at just the mention of it. “But I need your opinion.” 

She reached over the table to pick up her phone, quickly unlocking it and going to the gallery to find the photograph. 

Even now, after all this time, it still amazed her sometimes. That she could just do that. Lean over and grab what she wanted. 

That first day in Emma’s bedroom, when she’d held Regina’s hand and touched her face, had been just the beginning. 

It took weeks after that, months even of intensive physiotherapy, before she had another surge of movement in her arms. Months still after that before she could call on it at will. But Emma went into the physio sessions every day with all the grit and determination of a soldier, Regina at her side every step of the way. 

It was never humiliating, never aggravating like it was before. Not after Emma had had a taste of what it was like to be able to move and touch as she wanted. After that, she was willing to do anything for another shot. 

The return of movement to her upper body and arms had happened slowly, piece by piece. First it had just been in her hands and wrists – the sudden surge in her upper arms that had allowed her to reach up for Regina that day was, apparently, a fluke. But it grew from there. First it was just being able to reach over and squeeze Regina’s hand. Then it was re-learning to type on her phone, hold a pencil, crumple a ball of paper. After that came the long, slow journey to feeding herself, tying back her hair, eventually throwing a ball. 

And after nearly a _year_ of intense therapy, Emma was switched to a manual wheelchair: one she could push herself. The big mechanical monster that had been most of her life for so long was packed away and moved to her parents’ shed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to get rid of it, however much she had loathed it. After all, her first kiss with Regina had been in that thing. 

It was a long, hard journey, but with the right support and encouragement and treatment plans, the little word at the top of all her paperwork had turned from _quadriplegic_ to _paraplegic_. 

And now, almost a year on from _that_ , here she was. Sitting with Henry, comfortably holding her phone up in her hand. She frowned, swiping through her pictures until she found it. 

“I have it on hold at the store until I decide,” Emma told Henry, staring at the screen. She paused. “Alright then. Tell me what you think of _this_...” 

She wiggled her eyebrows, breathed in hopefully, and held the phone out for him to look at. He shuffled closer til he could take the phone from her and get a good look at the snapshot on screen. Emma anxiously scanned his face for a reaction – after a second, his eyes got all soft and a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“So?” Emma prompted. 

“I really like it,” Henry said, looking up at her with a dorky grin. “It’s really pretty. Not too much, you know.” He gave her a look, holding out her phone to her. “Mom’s going to love it.” 

Emma grinned, taking the phone back off him and taking another glance at the photo. She couldn’t stop looking at it every chance she got. Everything about it – the simple silver band, the twinkling princess-cut diamond, the memory of the lady at the store’s sweet, knowing face - never failed to put a flutter in her stomach and a sparkle in her eye. 

She looked back over at Henry, chest dancing with excitement. “You really think so?”

“I know it.” Henry smiled. “That’s the one. You have to get it. You _have_ to.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Emma said. “Dad’s given me a late start down at the station, but your mom will be at work. I can get it then.”

“Awesome,” Henry enthused. He paused, hazel eyes shining, and took a second to glance upstairs as if making sure Regina was still distracted. The faint noise of the shower was still going. He turned back to Emma. “When are you gonna do it?” 

“I don’t know, kid.” Emma breathed in. “Soon, I think. When the moment feels right. I mean, I don’t want to make a big fuss but I want it to be romantic. Special, you know? Your mom’s a real sap at heart, and she’s been through all this before so I kinda want –”

“Say no more,” Henry held up his hand, smirk starting to crawl over his placid face. “I know exactly what you need to do.” 

-0-

The day rolled around within a matter of weeks, and before she knew it, she was standing in the living room waiting for Regina to come downstairs with a grin on her face that hadn’t left for days, and a mass of butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. 

“You got everything?” Henry asked, glancing either side of the room, making sure his mom wasn’t down yet. He paused, hazel eyes sparkling as they met hers. “You’ve got the ring?” 

“Right here,” Emma patted her jacket pocket with a breathless smile. The butterflies in her stomach where bringing up a storm. She paused, glancing down at herself for the thousandth time. “How do I look?” 

“Great, ‘Ma.” Henry assured her, using the word that still made her heart ache with love for this kid, this kid who had taken her on and brought her into his family without a complaint. It was originally a shortening of her name, but now it was starting to feel like something more. Something more maternal. He smiled reassuringly. “You look really pretty.”

“Thanks, kid,” Emma grinned. She hadn’t been sure whether or not to wear a dress or trousers or what – hell, she’d even considered a full suit. It was just something that needed to be thought through. Too much of a fuss would be out of character, and Regina would know something was up. Not enough, and she’d probably regret it for the rest of her life. 

She’d settled on a dress in the end, plain and simple and un-dressy enough to be _her_ , but expensive enough that it was still _nice_. She was wearing a suit jacket with it, since she needed a pocket for the ring, but Henry told her a thousand times that it worked, and she wasn’t ashamed to accept fashion advice from a teenage boy. (Or get him to help curl her hair at the back. But they’d sworn never to talk about that.) 

She was taking his advice about the simple speech and the fancy restaurant, too. But who was she to question him? After all, he knew Regina better than anyone. 

At the sound of heels clicking down the stairs, both Emma and Henry jumped. 

They exchanged a final glance, Henry giving her hand a quick squeeze and whispering one last _good luck, Ma_ in her ear before the living room door opened and Emma’s heart stopped. 

Regina slipped through the doorway, brushing back a dark lock of barely-curled hair back from her face. She paused when she registered the unusual silence in the room, and saw the way both Emma and Henry were staring at her. “What?” Regina asked, confused. 

“Nothing,” Emma said, voice heavy with love, hint of a smile on her lips. “You just look... so beautiful.” 

“Oh,” Regina couldn’t fight the slight flush of warmth to her cheeks. “Thank you.”

She was wearing a classy dark-red dress Emma had never seen before, tailored just right. Her hair, now shoulder length again, was curled gently at the ends – clearly, she hadn’t needed any help. Both her heels and her lipstick matched the colour of her dress. 

Emma tried to stop herself from grinning the biggest, cheesiest grin that was threatening at the corners of her mouth. She had to keep this low-key, damn it. Just a normal anniversary date-night. But Regina was standing there, and she didn’t have a clue, and yet she looked so fucking gorgeous, it was all Emma could do not to pop the question right there. 

“You look beautiful, too, Emma,” Regina said, almost shyly. After a second, a mischievous smile quirked at her lips. “If I didn’t know you I’d almost say... Refined?” 

“Oh, stop it, Mills.” Emma laughed. “You flatter me.” 

Regina smiled teasingly, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder again. “The reservation’s at eight, you said?” She reached for her coat, the tailored black one hanging over the back of the sofa, and started to shrug it on. “We should probably get going soon.” 

“Probably,” Emma agreed, nodding. _Oh god. Oh god._ A fresh wave of butterflies in her stomach had her heart doing somersaults. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Henry giving her a knowing look. 

“Right, well, you know where everything is if you get hungry,” Regina told Henry, straightening her coat and turning to face him. “Just give us a call if you need anything. We’ll be back around ten thirty, maybe –”

“Mom.” Henry gave her a look. “I’ll be fine. You go enjoy yourself. It’s your anniversary, after all.” 

“Kid’ll be fine.” Emma assured her, buttoning up the front of her jacket and brushing the pocket with her fingers, just to feel the shape of the little black box inside. A shiver ran down her spine at the feel of it. 

Henry walked them to the front door, where he gave Emma one final reassuring smile and nod while Regina was distracted fishing the van keys out of the bowl in the foyer. When she came up with them, they broke the look and Henry turned to her. 

“I love you, Mom,” Henry said, with a little smile, before reaching out and pulling Regina into his arms. Even with her heels on, they were still of a height now, and her chin tucked over his shoulder like puzzle pieces. 

“Now go on, you two.” When he let her go, he ushered her out onto the porch, smiling. “You guys have fun.” 

The drive out to the restaurant went by in a flash. Emma barely remembered any of it, all the joking and sweet words and streetlights and radio music blurring together into a mess of nervous anticipation, a squirming in her belly and sweat on her palms. 

The waiter showed them to their candlelit table, and just like that, they managed to sink into an evening perfectly reminiscent of other dates and other nights, perfectly them, perfectly easy. Even the nerves in Emma’s gut went away – almost. 

It wasn’t until after dinner that Emma lifted the bottle of wine, refilling both their glasses. The lights of the restaurant shone against the glass, making strange patterns dance in the deep red wine. Wordlessly, she lifted her glass for a toast – Regina, smiling, picked up her own and the glasses met with a soft _clink_. Emma caught her eye across the red tablecloth, heart pounding like crazy. 

“Aren’t you going to toast?” Regina asked, raising a coy eyebrow. 

_Now or never._

Emma breathed in and nodded. 

“Yeah. Actually, I am.” She said. “Except I’m gonna toast...” Emma flashed a smile. “To you.” 

Regina’s face softened, cheeks flushing a little pinker in the arm light. “Emma...” 

“Look, Regina, can I say something?” Emma smiled, green eyes purposefully finding brown and holding on. She took a deep breath. “When I first met you, I was in a really bad place. I didn’t enjoy anything, I didn’t care about anything. There were some days when I wondered why I even bothered getting up at all. 

“And then I met you. 

“And I had no idea that you were about to not only change my life irrevocably for the better, but become the _most_ important part of it. I had guards up a mile high, but you clawed your way in and refused to get out, no matter how much I pushed you. 

“Now, I’m not saying there was a reason or a divine plan to any of what’s happened to us, but I am saying that...” Emma breathed in, trying hard to hold back the tears burning behind her eyes for just a few minutes longer. She needed to finish, and then she could let it all out. 

She raised her eyes back to Regina’s. “I can’t speak for you, but I can say quite happily that I’d rather live my messy story and all the scrapes I’ve had, than anyone else’s. I’d take my crappy childhood and my tragic car accident _every time_. Because it got me to you. 

"And if I hadn’t spent years growing up alone, then I wouldn’t have got to find and love my parents. And if I didn’t have them, then I wouldn’t have had that car crash. But if I didn’t have that, I wouldn’t have met you. 

“So I guess what I want you to know is that every moment was worth it. Every second of pain and misery, every trip to the hospital, every embarrassing, agonising, time-consuming physio session, and all the drugs and doctors and sleepless nights, were worth it. I would go through it all again, willing, because I know it meant that someday –” She breathed in. “ _Today_... I could do this.”

Emma inhaled slowly, forcing herself to be brave, and reached into her jacket pocket. Confidently, her fingers closed around the little black box and pulled it out. Slowly, precisely, she lifted the lid. 

Regina was staring at her. 

“Regina Mills.” Emma’s green eyes were dreamy and resolute, never leaving hers. “I love you. I need you. I can’t imagine my life without you.” She paused. “Would you do me the _incredible_ honour of becoming my wife?” 

Regina’s breath caught in her throat. 

Her big brown eyes were softer than anything, lips slightly parted, staring and staring and staring with her breath coming gently, like the tide against the shore. 

For a long time, she looked at Emma, with her heart caught up in her throat, thinking about the ache in her chest, and about Mother, and Robin and being loved and being fucked up and how for once, _none_ of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was Emma’s eyes on hers, and the feeling inside of her like maybe for once, everything was going to be okay. 

Maybe it already was.

And suddenly, Regina couldn’t keep it all in. In an instant, she was out of her seat, hurrying around the other side of the dinner table and launching herself into Emma’s wheelchair, into her arms, and wrapping herself so tight around her she might never be able to let go.

It took her a disorientated second to get her hands in the right place – Emma’s hair, Emma’s cheek – for her lips to find Emma’s. Regina clung onto her like a life raft, kissing her as if her life depended on it. She couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. Didn’t ever want to.

“Wait, is that a yes?” Emma laughed, barely getting the words out between the flurry of kisses. Breathless, she managed to pull back, her eyes finding Regina’s like fireworks, like celebrating. “Are you saying yes?”

Regina nearly laughed. In her rush of emotion, she’d forgotten to actually answer the question. “Yes!” Regina cried, as if Emma was ridiculous for even doubting it. “Yes, yes, yes, of course, _yes_.” 

“Yes?” Suddenly it was Emma awash in emotions, staring utterly hopelessly at her girlfriend – no, fiancée. “Yes? This is really happening?”

Regina’s dark eyes found hers, drawing closer until their noses were touching. “Does this feel real to you?” She whispered, voice soft and heavy with happiness, before she leaned in to meet her lips in a long, gentle kiss. 

Emma could feel herself smiling into it, even as warmth stirred heavily in her stomach. As she moved her mouth him tandem with hers, one hand anchored firmly in the silky dark hair at the back of Regina’s neck, her other arm going to wrap tight around her waist. Still, she was unbelievably, unendingly grateful that she could do just that.

She always would be. 

Together they had beat the odds, beat _fate_ , beat anything that said miracles couldn’t happen, or that the impossible was just that. 

_And_ , Emma thought, relishing the feeling of her fiancée in her arms, _we’ll carry on doing that_.

_Now, and forever._


End file.
